LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California. 


Class 


OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


.■^'■.'^^.//.// 


MAURICE    TIERNAY, 


€]^e  ^oimer  of  jfortune* 


BY 

CHARLES  LEVER. 


ILLUSTRATED   BY   E.  VAN   MUYDEN. 


BOSTON: 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY. 
1907. 


Copp'ight,  1894, 
Bv  Little,  Brown,  and  Company. 


Wini\3tmtjj  ^xtss: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge.  U.S.A. 


NOTICE. 


The  strangeness  of  some  of  the  incidents,  and  the 
rapidity  with  which  events  so  remarkable  succeeded 
each  other,  almost  deterred  the  writer  from  ever  com- 
mitting them  to  the  press  ;  nor  was  it  till  after  much 
consultation  and  some  persuasive  influence  on  the  part 
of  friends  that  he  at  length  yielded,  and  decided  upon 
so  doing.  Whether  in  that  determination  liis  choice 
was  a  wise  one,  must  be  left  to  the  judgment  of  the 
reader:  for  himself  he  has  but  to  say,  that  to  ponder 
over  some  of  these  early  scenes,  and  turn  over  in 
thought  some  of  his  youthful  passages,  has  solaced 
many  a  weary  hour  of  an  age  when  men  make  few  new 
friendships,  and  have  almost  as  few  opportunities  to 
cultivate  old  ones. 

That  the  chief  events  related  in  these  pages  —  such, 
for  instance,  as  every  detail  of  the  French  invasion,  the 
capture  of  Wolfe  Tone,  and  the  attack  on  Monte  di 
Faccio  —  are  rigidly  exact,  the  writer  is  most  sincere  in 
the  expression  of  his  conviction ;  for  the  truth  of  inci- 
dent purely  personal  it  is  needless  to  press  any  claim, 
seeing  that  he  was  this  hero  —  owns  no  higher  name 
than  that  of  a  Soldier  of  Fortune. 


193070 


CONTENTS. 


Chafteb  Page 

I.   "  The  Days  of  the  Guillotine  '* 1 

n.   The  Restaurant  ''  au  Scelerat  " 22 

III.  The  "Temple" 36 

IV.  "  The   Night  of  the  Ninth  Thermidor  "   .     .  47 
V.   The  Choice  of  a  Life 55 

VI.   "  The  Army  Sixty  Years  Since  " 64 

VII.   A  Passing   Acquaintance 81 

VIII.    "Tronchon" 88 

IX.   A  Scrape  and  its  Consequences 94 

X.   An  Aristocratic  Republican 109 

XI.   "The  Passage  of  the  Rhine" 115 

XII.   "A  Glance  at  Staff  Duty" 128 

XIII.  A  Farewell  Letter 138 

XIV.  A  Surprise  and  an  Escape 146 

XV.    Scraps  of  History 155 

XVI.   "An  Old  General  of  the  Irish  Brigade"   .  161 

XVII.    La  Rochelle 171 

XVIII.    "  The  Bay  of  Rathfran  " 180 

XIX.   A  "Reconnaissance" 192 

XX.    KiLLALA 200 

XXI.    Our  Allies 209 

XXn.   The  Day  of  "Castlebar" 217 

XXIII.  "  The  Town-Major  of  Castlebar  "     ....  229 

XXIV.  "  The  Mission  to  the  North  " 239 

XXV.   A  Passing  Visit  to  Killala 250 

XXVI.    A  Remnant  of  "  Fontenoy  " 258 

XXVn     '<  The  Cranagh  " 272 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

Chapteb  Page 

XXVIII.   Some  Xew  Acquaintances 279 

XXIX.    "  The  Breakfast  at  Letterkenny  "...  288 

XXX.   Scene  in  the  Royal  Barracks 293 

XXXI.    A  Brief  Change  of  Life  and  Country      .  301 

XXXII.    "  The  Athol  Tender  " 320 

XXXIII.  A  Bold  Stroke  for  Fame  and  Fortune     .  333 

XXXIV.  "  Genoa  in  the  Siege  ".....,..  340 
XXXV.   A  Novel  Council  of  War 348 

XXXVI.   Genoa  during  the  Siege     .......  359 

XXXVII.   Monte  di  Faccio 368 

XXXVIII.   A  Royalist  "de  la  Vieille  Roche"  ...  375 

XXXIX.    "A  Sorrowful  Parting" 388 

XL.   "  The  Chateau  of  Ettenheim  " 399 

XLI.   An  "Ordinary"  Acquaintance 410 

XLII.   The  "Count  de  Maurepas,"  alias ,     .  425 

XLIII.    A  Forest  Ride 434 

XLIV.    An  Episode  of  '94 455 

XLV.    The  Cabinet  of  a  Chef-de-Police      .     .     •  467 

XL VI.   A  Glance  at  the  "Prefecture  de  Police"  474 

XL VII.   "  The  Village  of  Schwartz- Ach  "      ...  481 

XL VIII.   "  A  Village  Syndicus  " 489 

XLIX.    "A  Lucky  Meeting" 501 

L.   The  March  on  Vienna 508 

LI.     «  SCHONBRUNN  "     IN    1809 525 

LII.   "KoMORN  Forty  Years  Ago" 534 

LIII.   A  Loss  AND  A  Gain 541 

LIV.   Maurice     Tiernay's     "  Last     Word     and 

Confession  " 550 


ILLUSTRATIONS    BY   E.   VAN   MUYDEN. 


The  Guillotine Frontispiece 

"  The  Coneusion  was  tremendous  "       77 

Maurice  and  General  Massena 342 

Maurice  Tiernay  and  Napoleon 524 


2  MAURICE   TIERXEY. 

That  I  am  simpl}^  recording  a  matter  of  fact,  the  patent 
of  my  ancestor's  nobility,  now  in  my  possession,  will  suffi- 
ciently attest ;  nor  is  its  existence  the  less  conclusive  that  it 
is  inscribed  on  the  back  of  his  commission  as  a  captain  in 
the  Shanabogue  Feucibles, — the  well-known  "  Clear-the- 
way-boys ;  "  a  proud  title,  it  is  said,  to  which  they  imparted 
a  new  reading  at  the  memorable  battle  afore-mentioned. 

The  document  bears  the  address  of  a  small  public-house 
called  the  Nest,  on  the  Kells  road,  and  contains  in  one  corner 
a  somewhat  lengthy  score  for  potables,  suggesting  the  notion 
that  his  Majesty  sympathized  with  vulgar  infirmities,  and 
found,  as  the  old  song  says,  "that  grief  and  sorrow  are 
dry." 

The  prudence  which  for  some  years  sealed  my  grand- 
father's lips  lapsed,  after  a  time,  into  a  careless  and  even 
boastful  spirit,  in  which  he  would  allude  to  his  rank  in  the 
peerage,  the  place  he  ought  to  be  holding,  and  so  on ;  till  at 
last  some  of  the  Government  people,  doubtless  taking  a 
liking  to  the  snug  house  and  demesne  of  Timmahoo,  de- 
nounced him  as  a  rebel,  —  on  which  he  was  arrested  and 
thrown  into  jail,  where  he  lingered  for  many  years,  and  only 
came  out  at  last  to  find  his  estate  confiscated  and  himself  a 
beggar. 

There  was  a  small  gathering  of  Jacobites  in  one  of  the 
towns  of  Flanders,  and  thither  he  repaired ;  but  how  he  lived, 
or  how  he  died,  I  never  learned.  I  only  know  that  his  son 
wandered  away  to  the  east  of  Europe,  and  took  service  in 
what  was  called  Trenck's  Pandom'S,  —  as  jolly  a  set  of  rob- 
bers as  ever  stalked  the  map  of  Europe,  from  one  side  to  the 
other.  This  was  my  grandfather,  whose  name  is  mentioned 
in  various  chronicles  of  that  estimable  corps,  and  who  was 
hanged  at  Prague  afterwards  for  an  attempt  to  carry  off  an 
archduchess  of  the  empire,  —  to  whom,  by  the  wa^^,  there  is 
good  reason  to  believe  he  was  privately  married.  This  sus- 
picion was  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  his  infant  child 
Joseph  was  at  once  adopted  by  the  imperial  famil}^,  and 
placed  as  a  pupil  -in  the  great  military  school  of  Vienna. 
From  thence  he  obtained  a  commission  in  the  Maria  Theresa 
Hussars,  and  subsequently,  being  sent  on  a  private  mission 
to  France,  entered  the  semce  of  Louis  XVI.,  where  he  mar- 


"THE  DAYS  OF  THE   GUILLOTINE."  3 

ried  a  lady  of  the  Queen's  household,  —  a  Mademoiselle  de 
la  Lasterie,  —  of  high  rank  and  some  fortune ;  and  with 
whom  he  lived  happily  till  the  dreadful  events  of  17 —  ,  when 
she  lost  her  life  beside  my  father,  then  fighting  as  a  Garde 
du  Corps,  on  the  staii'case  at  Versailles.  How  he  himself 
escaped  on  that  day,  and  what  were  the  next  features  in  his 
history,  I  never  knew ;  but  when  again  we  heard  of  him,  he 
was  married  to  the  widow  of  a  celebrated  orator  of  the  Moun- 
tain, and  he  himself  an  intimate  friend  of  St.  Just  and  Marat 
and  all  the  most  violent  of  the  Republicans. 

My  father's  history  about  this  period  is  involved  in  such 
obscurity,  and  his  second  marriage  followed  so  rapidly  on  the 
death  of  his  first  wife,  that,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  never 
knew  which  of  the  two  was  my  mother,  —  the  lineal  descend- 
ant of  a  house  noble  before  the  Crusades,  or  the  humble  hour- 
geoise  of  the  Quartier  St.  Denis.  What  peculiar  line  of 
political  action  my  father  followed  I  am  unable  to  say,  nor 
whether  he  was  suspected  with  or  without  due  cause ;  but 
suspected  he  certainly  was,  and  at  a  time  when  suspicion 
was  all-sufficient  for  conviction.  He  was  arrested,  and  thrown 
into  the  Temple,  where  I  remember  I  used  to  visit  him  every 
week ;  and  whence  I  accompanied  him  one  morning,  as  he 
was  led  forth  with  a  string  of  others,  to  the  Place  de  la  Greve 
to  be  guillotined.  I  believe  he  was  accused  of  royalism  ;  and 
I  know  that  a  white  cockade  was  found  among  his  effects, 
and  in  mockery  was  fastened  on  his  shoulder  on  the  day  of 
his  execution.  This  emblem,  deep  dyed  with  blood  and  still 
dripping,  was  taken  up  by  a  bystander  and  pinned  on  my 
cap,  with  the  savage  observation,  "  Voila!  it  is  the  proper 
color;  see  that  you  profit  by  the  way  it  became  so."  As, 
with  a  bursting  heart  and  a  head  wild  with  terror,  I  turned 
to  find  my  way  homeward,  I  felt  my  hand  grasped  by' another. 
I  looked  up,  and  saw  an  old  man,  whose  threadbare  black 
clothes  and  emaciated  appearance  bespoke  the  priest  in  the 
times  of  the  Convention. 

"  You  have  no  home  now,  my  poor  boy,"  said  he  to  me  ; 
"  come  and  share  mine." 

I  did  not  ask  him  why.  I  seemed  to  have  suddenly  become 
reckless  as  to  everything  present  or  future.  The  terrible 
scene  I  had  witnessed  had  dried  up  all  the  springs  of  my 


4  MAURICE  TIERXAY. 

youthful  heart ;  and,  infant  as  I  was,  I  was  abeady  a  sceptic 
as  to  everything  good  or  generous  in  human  nature.  I 
followed  him,  therefore,  without  a  word,  and  we  walked  on, 
leaving  the  thoroughfares  and  seeking  the  less  frequented 
streets,  till  we  arrived  in  what  seemed  a  subui'ban  part  of 
Paris,  —  at  least  the  houses  Avere  surrounded  with  trees  and 
shi'ubs ;  and  at  a  distance  I  could  see  the  hill  of  Montmartre 
and  its  windmills,  objects  well  known  to  me  by  many  a 
Sunda}'  visit. 

Even  after  my  own  home,  the  poverty  of  the  Pere  Michel's 
household  was  most  remarkable.  He  had  but  one  small  room, 
of  which  a  miserable  settle-bed,  two  chau'S,  and  a  table  con- 
stituted all  the  furniture ;  there  was  no  fireplace,  a  little  pan 
for  charcoal  supplying  the  only  means  for  warmth  or  cookery ; 
a  crucifix  and  a  few  colored  prints  of  saints  decorated  the 
whitewashed  walls,  and  with  a  string  of  w'ooden  beads,  a 
cloth  skull-cap,  and  a  bracket  with  two  or  three  books,  made 
up  the  whole  inventory  of  his  possessions ;  and  yet,  as  he 
closed  the  door  behind  him  and  drew  me  towards  him  to 
kiss  my  cheek,  the  tears  glistened  in  his  eyes  with  gratitude 
as  he  said, — 

"  Now,  my  dear  Maurice,  you  are  at  home." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  I  am  called  Maurice?  "  said  I,  in 
astonishment. 

"  Because  I  was  an  old  friend  of  your  poor  father,  my 
child.  We  came  from  the  same  country ;  we  held  the  same 
faith,  had  the  same  hopes,  and  may  one  day  yet,  perhaps, 
have  the  same  fate." 

He  told  me  that  the  closest  friendship  had  bound  them 
together  for  years  past,  and  in  proof  of  it  showed  me  a 
variety  of  papers  which  my  father  had  entrusted  to  his 
keeping,  —  well  aware,  as  it  would  seem,  of  the  insecurity  of 
his  own  life. 

"He  charged  me  to  take  you  home  with  me,  Maurice, 
should  the  day  come  when  this  might  come  to  pass.  You 
will  now  live  with  me,  and  I  will  be  your  father,  so  far,  at 
least,  as  humble  means  will  suffer  me." 

I  was  too  young  to  know  how  deep  my  debt  of  gratitude 
ought  to  be.  I  had  not  tasted  the  sorrows  of  utter  desertion, 
nor  did  I  know  from  what  a  hurricane  of  blood  and  anarchy 


"THE  DAYS  OF  THE   GUILLOTINE."  6 

Fortune  had  rescued  me ;  still  I  accepted  the  Pore's  benevo- 
lent offer  with  a  thankful  heart,  and  turned  to  him  at  once 
as  to  all  that  was  left  to  me  in  the  world. 

All  this  time,  it  may  be  wondered  how  I  neither  spoke  nor 
thought  of  my  mother,  if  she  were  indeed  such;  but  for 
several  weeks  before  my  father's  death  I  had  never  seen  her, 
nor  did  he  ever  once  allude  to  her.  The  reserve  thus  imposed 
upon  me  remained  sthl,  and  I  felt  as  though  it  would  have 
been  like  a  treachery  to  his  memory  were  I  now  to  speak  of 
her  whom  in  his  lifetime  I  had  not  dared  to  mention. 

The  P^re  lost  no  time  in  diverting  my  mind  from  the 
dreadful  events  I  had  so  lately  witnessed.  The  next  morn- 
ing, soon  after  daybreak,  I  was  summoned  to  attend  him  to 
the  little  church  of  St.  Blois,  where  he  said  mass.  It  was  a 
very  humble  little  edifice,  which  once  had  been  the  private 
chapel  of  a  chateau,  and  stood  in  a  weed-grown,  neglected 
garden,  where  broken  statues  and  smashed  fountains  bore 
evidence  of  the  visits  of  the  destroyer.  A  rude  effigy  of  St. 
Blois,  upon  whom  some  profane  hand  had  stuck  a  Phrygian 
cap  of  liberty,  and  which  none  were  bold  enough  to  displace, 
stood  over  the  dooi'way ;  except  this,  not  a  vestige  of  orna- 
ment or  decoration  existed.  The  altar,  covered  with  a  white 
cloth,  displayed  none  of  the  accustomed  emblems ;  and 
a  rude  crucifix  of  oak  was  the  only  symbol  of  the  faith 
remaining. 

Small  as  was  the  building,  it  was  even  too  spacious  for  the 
few  who  came  to  worship.  The  terror  which  prevailed  on 
every  side  —  the  dread  that  devotion  to  religion  shoukl  be 
construed  into  an  adherence  to  the  monarchy,  that  submis- 
sion to  God  should  be  interpreted  as  an  act  of  rebellion 
against  the  sovereignty  of  human  will  —  had  gradually 
thinned  the  numbers,  till  at  last  the  few  who  came  were  only 
those  whose  afflictions  had  steeled  them  against  any  re- 
verses, and  who  were  ready  martyrs  to  whatever  might 
betide  them.  These  were  almost  exclusively  women,  —  the 
mothers  and  wives  of  those  who  had  sealed  then-  faith  with 
their  blood  in  the  terrible  Place  de  la  Greve.  Among  them 
was  one  whose  dress  and  appearance,  although  not  different 
from  the  rest,  always  created  a  movement  of  respect  as  she 
passed  in  or  out  of  the  chapel.     She  was  a  very  old  lady, 


6  ]MArEICE   TLERXAY. 

with  hair  white  as  snow,  and  who  led  by  the  hand  a  little 
girl  of  about  my  own  age,  —  her  large  dark  eyes  and  bril- 
liant complexion  giving  her  a  look  of  unearthly  beauty  in 
that  assemblage  of  fuiTOwed  cheeks,  and  eyes  long  dimmed 
by  weeping.  It  was  not  alone  that  her  featui-es  were  beau- 
tifully regular,  or  that  their  lines  were  fashioned  in  the  very 
perfection  of  symmetiy,  but  there  was  a  certain  character 
in  the  expression  of  the  face  so  different  from  all  around 
it  as  to  be  abnost  electi'ical  in  effect.  Untouched  by  the 
teiTible  calamities  that  weighed  on  every  heart,  she  seemed, 
m  the  glad  buoyancy  of  her  youth,  to  be  at  once  above  the 
very  reach  of  soitow,  —  like  one  who  bore  a  chaiTQed  fate, 
and  whom  Fortune  had  exempted  from  all  the  tiials  of  this 
life.  So  at  least  did  I  read  those  features,  as  they  beamed 
upon  me  in  such  a  contrast  to  the  almost  stem  character  of 
the  sad  and  sorrow-struck  faces  of  the  rest. 

It  was  a  part  of  my  duty  to  place  a  footstool  each  morning 
for  the  'Olarquise,"  as  she  was  distinctively  called,  and  on 
these  occasions  it  was  that  I  used  to  gaze  upon  that  Uttle 
gu-rs  face  with  a  kind  of  admii'ing  wonder  that  lingered  in 
my  heart  for  houi'S  after.  The  bold  look  with  which  she 
met  mine,  if  it  at  first  half  abashed,  at  length  encouraged 
me ;  and  as  I  stole  noiselessly  away,  I  used  to  feel  as  though 
I  earned  with  me  some  poiiion  of  that  high  hope  which 
bounded  within  her  own  heart.  Sti'ange  magnetism!  it 
seemed  as  though  her  spmt  whispered  to  me  not  to  be 
down-hearted  or  depressed,  that  the  sorrows  of  life  came 
and  went  as  shadows  pass  over  the  earth,  that  the  season 
of  mourning  was  fast  passing,  and  that  for  us  the  world 
would  wear  a  brighter  and  more  glorious  aspect. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  her  dark  eyes  revealed  to  me,  and 
such  the  hopes  I  caught  up  from  her  proud  featm-es. 

It  is  easy  to  color  a  life  of  monotony  ;  any  hue  may  soon 
tinge  the  outer  sm-face,  and  thus  mine  speedily  assumed  a 
hopeful  cast,  not  the  less  decided  that  the  distance  was  lost 
in  vague  uncertainty.  The  nature  of  my  studies  —  and  the 
Pere  kept  me  rigidly  to  the  desk  —  offered  little  to  the  dis- 
cursiveness of  fancy.  The  rudiments  of  Greek  and  Latin, 
the  lives  of  saints  and  martyrs,  the  litanies  of  the  Church, 
the  invocations  peculiar  to  certain  holy  days,  chiefly  filled 


"THE   DAYS   OF  THE   GUILLOTIXE."  7 

up  my  time  when  not  sharing  those  menial  offices  which  our 
poverty  exacted  from  our  own  hands. 

Oui-  life  was  of  the  very  simplest.  Except  a  cup  of  coffee 
each  morning  at  daybreak,  we  took  but  one  meal ;  our  drink 
was  always  water.  By  what  means  even  the  humble  fare 
we  enjoyed  was  procm-ed  I  never  knew,  for  I  never  saw 
money  in  the  Pere's  possession,  nor  did  he  ever  appear  to 
buy  anything. 

For  about  two  houi's  in  the  week  I  used  to  enjoy  entu-e 
liberty,  as  the  Pere  was  accustomed  every  Saturday  to  visit 
certain  persons  of  his  flock  who  were  too  infirm  to  go  abroad. 
Ou  these  occasions  he  would  leave  me  with  some  thoughtful 
injunction  about  reflection  or  pious  meditation,  perhaps  sug- 
gesting for  my  amusement  the  life  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul, 
or  some  other  of  those  adventurous  spkits  whose  missions 
among  the  Indians  are  so  replete  with  heroic  struggles,  but 
still  with  free  permission  for  me  to  walk  out  at  large  and 
enjoy  myself  as  I  liked  best.  VTe  lived  so  near  the  outer 
boulevard  that  I  could  akeady  see  the  open  country  from 
our  windows ;  but  fair  and  enticing  as  seemed  the  sunny 
slopes  of  Montmartre,  bright  as  glanced  the  young  leaves  of 
spring  in  the  gardens  at  its  foot,  I  ever  turned  my  steps 
into  the  crowded  city,  and  sought  the  thoroughfares  where 
the  great  human  tide  rolled  fullest. 

There  were  ceitain  spots  which  held  a  kind  of  supernatural 
influence  over  me  ;  one  of  these  was  the  Temple,  another  was 
the  Place  de  la  Greve.  The  window  at  which  my  father  used 
to  sit,  from  which  as  a  kind  of  signal  I  have  so  often  seen 
his  red  kerchief  floating,  I  never  could  pass  now  without 
stopping  to  gaze  at,  —  now,  thinking  of  him  who  had  been 
its  inmate ;  now,  wondering  who  might  be  its  present  occu- 
pant. It  needed  not  the  onward  cm-rent  of  population  that 
each  Satm'day  bore  along,  to  carry  me  to  the  Place  de  la 
Greve.  It  was  the  great  day  of  the  guillotine,  and  as  many 
as  two  hundred  were  often  led  out  to  execution.  Although 
the  spectacle  had  now  lost  every  charm  of  excitement  to  the 
population  from  its  frequency,  it  had  become  a  kind  of 
necessity  to  their  existence,  and  the  sight  of  blood  alone 
seemed  to  slake  that  feverish  thu-st  for  vengeance  which  no 
sufferings  appeared  capable  of  satiating.     It  was  rare,  how- 


8  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

ever,  when  some  great  and  distinguished  criminal  did  not 
absorb  all  the  interest  of  the  scene.  It  was  at  that  period 
when  the  fierce  tyrants  of  the  Convention  had  tui'ned  upon 
each  other,  and  sought,  by  denouncing  those  who  had  been 
then'  bosom  friends,  to  seal  their  new  allegiance  to  the  people. 
There  was  something  demoniacal  in  the  exultation  with 
which  the  mob  witnessed  the  fate  of  those  whom,  but  a  few 
weeks  back,  they  had  acknowledged  as  then*  guides  and 
teachers.  The  uncertainty  of  human  greatness  appeared  the 
most  glorious  recompense  to  those  whose  station  debarred 
them  from  all  the  enjoyments  of  power ;  and  the}^  stood  by 
the  death-agonies  of  then-  former  friends  with  a  fiendish  joy 
that  all  the  sufferings  of  then-  enemies  had  never  yielded. 

To  me  the  spectacle  had  all  the  fascination  that  scenes  of 
horror  exercise  over  the  mind  of  j^outh.  I  knew  nothing  of 
the  teiTible  conflict,  nothing  of  the  fierce  passions  enlisted 
in  the  struggle,  nothing  of  the  sacred  names  so  basely  pol- 
luted, nothing  of  that  remorseless  vengeance  with  which  the 
low-born  and  degraded  were  still  hounded  on  to  slaughter. 
It  was  a  solemn  and  a  fearful  sight,  but  it  was  no  more  ;  and 
I  gazed  upon  every  detail  of  the  scene  with  an  interest  that 
never  wandered  from  the  spot  whereon  it  was  enacted.  If 
the  parade  of  soldiers,  of  horse,  foot,  and  artillery,  gave  these 
scenes  a  character  of  public  justice,  the  horrible  mobs  who 
chanted  ribald  songs  and  danced  around  the  guillotine  sug- 
gested the  notion  of  popular  vengeance ;  so  that  I  was  lost 
in  all  my  attempts  to  reconcile  the  reasons  of  these  execu- 
tions with  the  circumstances  that  accompanied  them. 

Not  daring  to  inform  the  Pere  Michel  of  where  I  had 
been,  I  could  not  ask  him  for  au}^  explanation  ;  and  thus  was 
I  left  to  pick  up  from  the  scattered  phrases  of  the  crowd 
what  was  the  guilt  alleged  against  the  criminals.  In  many 
cases  the  simple  word  Chouan^  of  which  I  knew  not  the 
import,  was  all  I  heard ;  in  others  jeering  allusions  to  former 
rank  and  station  would  be  uttered ;  while  against  some  the 
taunt  would  imply  that  they  had  shed  tears  over  others  who 
fell  as  enemies  of  the  people,  and  that  such  sympathy  was  a 
costly  pleasure  to  be  paid  for  but  with  a  life's-blood.  Such 
entire  possession  of  me  had  these  awful  sights  taken,  that  I 
lived  in  a  continual  dream  of  them.     The  sound  of  every 


"THE   DAYS  OF  THE   GUILLOTINE."  9 

cart-wheel  recalled  the  dull  rumble  of  the  hurdle,  every  dis- 
tant sound  seemed  like  the  far-off  hum  of  the  coming  multi- 
tude, every  sudden  noise  suggested  the  clanking  drop  of  the 
guillotine !  My  sleep  had  no  other  images,  and  I  wandered 
about  my  little  round  of  duties  pondering  over  this  terrible 
theme. 

Had  I  been  less  occupied  with  my  own  thoughts,  I  must 
have  seen  that  the  Pere  Michel  was  suffering  under  some 
great  calamity.  The  poor  priest  became  wasted  to  a  shadow ; 
for  entu-e  days  long  he  would  taste  of  nothing ;  sometimes 
he  would  be  absent  from  early  morning  to  late  at  night,  and 
when  he  did  return,  instead  of  betaking  himself  to  rest,  he 
would  drop  down  before  the  crucifix  in  an  agony  of  prayer, 
and  thus  spend  more  than  half  the  night.  Often  and  often 
have  I,  when  feigning  sleep,  followed  him  as  he  recited  the 
litanies  of  the  breviary,  adding  my  own  unuttered  prayers 
to  his,  and  beseeching  for  a  mercy  whose  object  I  knew 
not. 

For  some  time  his  little  chapel  had  been  closed  by  the 
authorities,  —  a  heavy  padlock  and  two  massive  seals  being 
placed  upon  the  door,  and  a  notice  in  a  vulgar  handwriting 
appended,  to  the  effect  that  it  was  by  the  order  of  the  Com- 
missaiy  of  the  Department.  Could  this  be  the  soui*ce  of 
the  Pere's  soitow,  or  did  not  his  affliction  seem  too  great 
for  such  a  cause,  were  questions  I  asked  myself  again  and 
again. 

In  this  state  were  matters,  when  one  morning,  it  was  a 
Saturday,  the  Pere  enjoined  me  to  spend  the  day  in  prayer, 
reciting  particularly  the  litm-gies  for  the  dead,  and  all  those 
sacred  offices  for  those  who  have  just  departed  this  life. 

"  Pray  unceasingly,  my  dear  child,  —  pray  with  your  whole 
heart,  as  though  it  were  for  one  you  loved  best  in  the  world. 
I  shall  not  return,  perhaps,  till  late  to-night ;  but  I  will  kiss 
you  then,  and  to-morrow  we  shall  go  into  the  woods 
together." 

The  tears  fell  from  his  cheek  to  mine  as  he  said  this,  and 
his  damp  hand  trembled  as  he  pressed  my  fingers.  My  heart 
was  full  to  bursting  at  his  emotion,  and  I  resolved  faithfully 
to  do  his  bidding.  To  watch  him  as  he  went,  I  opened  the 
sash ;   and  as  I  did  so,  the  sound  of  a  distant  drum,  the  well- 


10  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

known  muffled  roll,  floated  on  the  air,  and  I  remembered  it 
was  the  day  of  the  guillotine,  —  that  day  in  which  my  fever- 
ish spiiit  turned,  as  it  were  in  relief,  to  the  reality  of  blood. 
Remote  as  was  the  part  of  the  city  we  lived  in,  I  could  still 
mark  the  hastening  steps  of  the  foot-passengers,  as  they  lis- 
tened to  the  far-off  summons,  and  see  the  tide  was  setting 
towards  the  fatal  Place  de  la  Greve.  It  was  a  lowering, 
heavy  morning,  overcast  with  clouds,  and  on  its  loaded 
atmosphere  sounds  moved  slowly  and  indistincth' ;  yet  I 
could  trace  through  all  the  din  of  the  great  city,  the  inces- 
sant roll  of  the  drums,  and  the  loud  shouts  that  burst  forth 
from  time  to  time  from  some  great  multitude. 

Forgetting  everj^thing  save  my  intense  passion  for  scenes 
of  terror,  I  hastened  down  the  stau's  into  the  street,  and  at 
the  top  of  my  speed  hurried  to  the  place  of  execution.  As 
I  went  along,  the  crowded  streets  and  thronged  avenues  told 
of  some  event  of  more  than  common  interest;  and  in  the 
words  which  fell  from  those  around  me,  I  could  trace  that 
some  deep  Royalist  plot  had  just  been  discovered,  and  that 
the  conspirators  would  all  on  that  day  be  executed.  AVhether 
it  was  that  the  frequent  sight  of  blood  was  beginning  to  pall 
upon  the  popular  appetite,  or  that  these  wholesale  massacres 
interested  less  than  the  sight  of  indi\idual  suffering,  I  know 
not ;  but  certainly  there  was  less  of  exultation,  less  of 
triumphant  scorn  in  the  tone  of  the  speakers.  They  talked 
of  the  coming  event  as  of  a  common  occurrence,  which,  from 
mere  repetition,  was  gradually  losing  interest. 

"  I  thought  we  had  done  with  these  Chouans,"  said  a  man 
in  a  blouse,  with  a  paper  cap  on  his  head.  "  Pardie!  they 
must  have  been  more  numerous  than  we  ever  suspected." 

"That  they  were,  citoyen^"  said  a  haggard-looking  fellow, 
whose  features  showed  the  signs  of  recent  strife  ;  "  they  were 
the  millions  who  gorged  and  fed  upon  us  for  centuries,  who 
sipped  the  red  grape  of  Bordeaux  while  you  and  I  drank  the 
water  of  the  Seine." 

"  Well,  their  time  is  come  now,"  cried  a  third. 

"  And  when  will  ours  come?  "  asked  a  fresh-looking,  dark- 
eyed  girl,  whose  dress  bespoke  her  trade  as  a  flower-girl; 
"or  do  you  call  this  cur  time,  my  masters,  when  Paris  has 
no  more  pleasant  sight  than  blood,  nor  any  music  save  the 


"THE   DAYS   OF   THE   GUILLOTINE/^  11 

pa  iVa,  that  drowns  the  cries  at  the  guillotine?  Is  this  our 
time,  when  we  have  lost  those  who  gave  us  bread,  and  got 
in  their  place  only  those  who  would  feed  us  with  carnage  ?  " 

"Down  with  her!  down  with  the  Chouaue !  a  has  la 
Royaliste ! "  cried  the  pale-faced  fellow ;  and  he  struck  the 
giii  with  his  fist  upon  the  face,  and  left  it  covered  with 
blood. 

' '  To  the  Lantern  with  her !  to  the  Seine  !  "  shouted  sev- 
eral voices ;  and  now,  rudely  seizing  her  by  the  shoulders, 
the  mob  seemed  bent  upon  sudden  vengeance ;  while  the 
poor  girl,  letting  fall  her  basket,  begged  with  clasped  hands 
for  mercy. 

"  See  here,  see  here,  comrades,"  cried  a  fellow,  stooping 
down  among  the  flowers,  "  she  is  a  Royalist:  here  are  lilies 
hid  beneath  the  rest." 

What  sad  consequences  this  discovery  might  have  led  to 
there  is  no  knowing,  when  suddenly  a  violent  rush  of  the 
crowd  tui'ned  every  thought  into  a  different  direction.  It 
was  caused  by  a  movement  of  the  Gendarmerie  a  cheval,  who 
were  clearing  the  way  for  the  approaching  procession.  I  had 
just  time  to  place  the  poor  girl's  basket  in  her  hands,  as  the 
onward  impulse  of  the  dense  mob  carried  me  foi'ward.  I  saw 
her  no  more.  A  flower  —  I  know  not  how  it  came  there  — 
was  in  my  bosom ;  and  seeing  that  it  was  a  lily,  I  placed  it 
within  my  cap  for  concealment. 

The  hoarse  clangor  of  the  bassoons  —  the  only  instruments 
which  played  during  the  march  —  now  told  that  the  proces- 
sion was  approaching ;  and  then  I  could  see,  above  the  heads 
of  the  multitude,  the  leopard-skin  helmets  of  the  dragoons, 
who  led  the  way.  Save  this  I  could  see  nothing,  as  I  was 
borne  along  in  the  vast  torrent  towards  the  place  of  execu- 
tion. Slowly  as  we  moved,  our  progress  was  far  more  rapid 
than  that  of  the  procession,  which  was  often  obliged  to  halt 
from  the  density  of  the  mob  in  front.  "We  arrived,  there- 
fore, at  the  Place  a  considerable  time  before  it ;  and  now  I 
found  myself  beside  the  massive  wooden  railing  placed  to 
keep  off  the  crowd  from  the  space  around  the  guillotine. 

It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  stood  so  close  to  the  fatal 
spot,  and  my  eyes  devoured  every  detail  with  the  most 
searching  intensity,  —  the  colossal  guillotine  itself,  painted 


12  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

red,  and  with  its  massive  axe  suspended  aloft ;  the  terrible 
basket,  half  filled  with  sawdust,  beneath ;  the  coarse  table, 
on  which  a  rude  jar  and  a  cup  were  placed ;  and,  more  dis- 
gusting than  all,  the  lounging  group,  who,  with  their  news- 
papers in  hand,  seemed  from  time  to  time  to  watch  if  the 
procession  were  approaching.  They  sat  beneath  a  misshapen 
statue  of  wood,  painted  red  like  the  guillotine.  This  was 
the  goddess  of  Liberty.  I  climbed  one  of  the  pillars  of  the 
paling,  and  could  now  see  the  great  cart,  which,  like  a  boat 
upon  wheels,  came  slowly  along,  dragged  by  six  horses.  It 
was  crowded  with  people,  so  closely  packed  that  they  could 
not  move  then*  bodies,  and  only  waved  their  hands,  which 
they  did  incessantly.  They  seemed,  too,  as  if  they  were 
singing ;  but  the  deep  growl  of  the  bassoons,  and  the  fierce 
bowlings  of  the  mob  drowned  all  other  sounds.  As  the  cart 
came  nearer,  I  could  distinguish  the  faces,  amid  which  were 
those  of  age  and  youth,  —  men  and  women,  bold-visaged  boys 
and  fair  girls,  —  some  whose  ak  bespoke  the  very  highest 
station,  and  beside  them  the  hardy  peasant,  apparently  more 
amazed  than  terrified  at  all  he  saw  around  him.  On  they 
came,  the  great  cart  surging  heavily,  like  a  bark  in  a  stormy 
sea ;  and  now  it  cleft  the  dense  ocean  that  filled  the  place, 
and  I  could  descry  the  lineaments  wherein  the  stiffened  lines 
of  death  were  already  marked.  Had  any  touch  of  pity  still 
lingered  in  that  dense  crowd,  there  might  well  have  been 
some  show  of  compassion  for  the  sad  convoy,  whose  faces 
grew  ghastly  with  terror  as  they  drew  near  the  horrible 
engine. 

Down  the  fuiTOwed  cheek  of  age  the  heavy  tears  coursed 
freely,  and  sobs  and  broken  prayers  burst  forth  from  hearts 
that  until  now  had  beat  high  and  proudly. 

"  There  is  the  Due  d'Angeac,"  cried  a  fellow,  pointing  to 
a  venerable  old  man,  who  was  seated  at  the  corner  of  the 
cart,  with  an  air  of  calm  dignity ;  "I  know  him  well,  for  I 
was  his  perruquier." 

"His  hair  must  be  content  with  sawdust  this  morning, 
instead  of  powder,"  said  another ;  and  a  rude  laugh  followed 
the  ruffian  jest. 

"  See  !  mark  that  woman  with  the  long  dark  hak,  —  that  is 
La  Bretonville,  the  actress  of  the  St.  Martin." 


"THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GUILLOTINE."  13 

*' I  have  often  seen  her  represent  terror  far  more  natur- 
ally," cried  a  fashionably-dressed  man,  as  he  stared  at  the 
victim  through  his  opera-glass. 

"Bah!"  replied  his  friend,  "she  despises  her  audience, 
voila  tout.  Look,  Henri,  if  that  little  girl  beside  her  be  not 
Lucille,  of  the  Pantheon." 

"  Parhleu  !  so  it  is.  Why,  they  '11  not  leave  a  pirouette  in 
the  Grand  Opera.  Pauvre  petite,  what  had  you  to  do  with 
politics  ?  " 

"  Her  little  feet  ought  to  have  saved  her  head  any  day." 

"  See  how  grim  that  old  lady  beside  her  looks;  I'd  swear 
she  is  more  shocked  at  the  company  she  's  thrown  into  than 
the  fate  that  awaits  her.  I  never  saw  a  ^glance  of  prouder 
disdain  than  she  had  just  bestowed  on  poor  Lucille." 

"That  is  the  old  Marquise  D'Estelle,  the  very  essence 
of  our  old  nobility.  They  used  to  talk  of  their  mesalli- 
ance with  the  Bourbons  as  the  first  misfortune  of  their 
house." 

"  Pdrdie!  they  have  lived  to  learn  deeper  son^ows." 

I  had  by  this  time  discovered  her  they  were  speaking  of, 
whom  I  recognized  at  once  as  the  old  Marquise  of  the  Chapel 
of  St.  Blois.  My  hands  nearly  gave  up  their  grasp  as  I 
gazed  on  those  features  which  so  often  I  had  seen  fixed  in 
prayer,  and  which  now  —  a  thought  paler,  perhaps  —  wore 
the  self -same  calm  expression.  With  what  intense  agony  I 
peered  into  the  mass,  to  see  if  the  little  girl,  her  grand- 
daughter, were  with  her;  and  oh  the  deep  relief  I  felt  as 
I  saw  nothing  but  strange  faces  on  every  side !  It  was 
terrible  to  feel,  as  my  eyes  ranged  over  that  vast  mass, 
where  grief  and  despair  and  heart-sinking  terror  were 
depicted,  that  I  should  experience  a  spirit  of  joy  and  thank- 
fulness ;  and  yet  I  did  so,  and  with  my  lips  I  uttered  my 
gratitude  that  she  was  spared !  But  I  had  not  time  for 
many  reflections  like  this ;  already  the  terrible  business  of 
the  day  had  begun,  and  the  prisoners  were  now  descending 
from  the  cart,  ranging  themselves,  as  their  names  were 
called,  in  a  line  below  the  scaffold.  With  a  few  exceptions, 
they  took  their  places  in  all  the  calm  of  seeming  indifference. 
Death  had  long  familiarized  itself  to  their  minds  in  a  thou- 
sand shapes.     Day  by  day  they  had  seen  the  vacant  places 


14  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

left  by  those  led  out  to  die,  and  if  their  sorrows  had  not 
rendered  them  careless  of  life,  the  world  itself  had  grown 
distasteful  to  them.  In  some  cases  a  spii'it  of  proud  scorn 
was  manifested  to  the  very  last ;  and,  strange  inconsistency 
of  human  nature !  the  very  men  whose  licentiousness  and 
frivolity  first  evoked  the  terrible  storm  of  popular  fury  were 
the  first  to  display  the  most  chivalrous  courage  in  the  terrible 
face  of  the  guillotine.  Beautiful  women,  too,  in  all  the  pride 
of  their  loveliness,  met  the  inhuman  stare  of  that  mob  un- 
dismayed. Nor  were  these  traits  without  theii*  fruits.  This 
noble  spirit,  this  triumphant  victory  of  the  well-born  and 
the  great,  was  a  continual  insult  to  the  populace,  who  saw 
themselves  defrauded  of  half  their  promised  vengeance ; 
and  they  learned  that  they  might  kill,  but  they  could  never 
humiliate  them.  In  vain  they  dipped  their  hands  in  the 
red  life-blood,  and,  holding  up  their  dripping  fingers,  asked, 
' '  How  did  it  differ  from  that  of  the  people  ?  "  Their  hearts 
gave  the  lie  to  the  taunt;  for  they  witnessed  instances  of 
heroism,  from  gray  hairs  and  tender  womanhood,  that 
would  have  shamed  the  proudest  deeds  of  then-  new-born 
chivalry ! 

"  Charles  Gregoire  Courcelles !  "  shouted  out  a  deep  voice 
from  the  scaffold. 

"That  is  my  name,"  said  a  venerable  looking  old  gentle- 
man, as  he  arose  from  his  seat,  adding,  with  a  placid  smile, 
"  but  for  half  a  century  my  friends  have  called  me  the  Due 
de  Riancourt." 

' '  We  have  no  dukes  nor  marquises ;  we  know  of  no  titles 
in  France,"  replied  the  functionary.  "  All  men  are  equal 
before  the  law." 

"If  it  were  so,  my  friend,  you  and  I  might  change  places  ; 
for  you  were  my  steward,  and  plundered  my  chateau." 

' '  Down  with  the  Royalist !  away  with  the  aristocrat !  " 
shouted  a  number  of  voices  from  the  crowd. 

"Be  a  little  patient,  good  people,"  said  the  old  man,  as 
he  ascended  the  steps  with  some  difficulty  ;  "I  was  wounded 
in  Canada,  and  have  never  yet  recovered.  I  shall  probably 
be  better  a  few  minutes  hence." 

There  was  something  of  half  simplicity  in  the  careless  way 
the   words   were    uttered   that    hushed   the   multitude,    and 


UNIVERSITY 

CF 

"THE  DAYS   OF  THE   GUILLOTINE."  15 

already  some  expressions  of  sjmipathy  were  heard ;  but  as 
quickly  the  ribald  insults  of  the  hired  ruffians  of  the  Con- 
vention drowned  these  sounds,  and  "  Down  with  the  Roy- 
alist" resounded  on  every  side,  while  two  officials  assisted 
him  to  remove  his  stock  and  bare  his  throat.  The  Commis- 
sary, advancing  to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  and,  as  it  were, 
addressing  the  people,  read  in  a  hurried,  slurring  kind  of 
voice  something  that  purported  to  be  the  ground  of  the 
condemnation.  But  of  this  not  a  word  could  be  heard. 
None  cared  to  hear  the  ten-thousand-time  told  tale  of  sus- 
pected Royalism,  nor  would  listen  to  the  high-sounding 
declamation  that  proclaimed  the  virtuous  zeal  of  the  Govern- 
ment, their  untiring  energy,  their  glorious  persistence  in  the 
cause  of  the  people.  The  last  words  were  as  usual  responded 
to  with  an  echoing  shout,  and  the  cry  of  "  Vive  la  Itepuh- 
liqiie  "  rose  from  the  great  multitude. 

"  Vive  le  Roi!''  cried  the  old  man,  with  a  voice  heard 
high  above  the  clamor ;  but  the  words  were  scarce  out  when 
the  lips  that  muttered  them  were  closed  in  death ;  so  sudden 
was  the  act,  that  a  cry  burst  forth  from  the  mob,  but  whether 
in  reprobation  or  in  ecstasy  I  knew  not. 

I  will  not  follow  the  sad  catalogue,  wherein  nobles  and 
peasants,  priests,  soldiers,  actors,  men  of  obscure  fortune 
and  women  of  lofty  station,  succeeded  each  other,  occupying 
for  a  brief  minute  every  eye,  and  passing  away  forever. 
Many  ascended  the  platform  without  a  word ;  some  waved 
a  farewell  towards  a  distant  quarter,  where  they  suspected  a 
friend  to  be ;  others  spent  their  last  moments  in  prayer,  and 
died  in  the  very  act  of  supplication.  All  bore  themselves 
with  a  noble  and  proud  courage ;  and  now  some  five  or  six 
alone  remained  of  whose  fate  none  seemed  to  guess  the  issue, 
since  they  had  been  taken  from  the  Temple  by  some  mistake, 
and  were  not  included  in  the  list  of  the  Commissary.  There 
they  sat,  at  the  foot  of  the  scaffold,  speechless  and  stupefied ; 
they  looked  as  though  it  were  matter  of  indifference  to  which 
side  their  steps  should  turn,  —  to  the  jail  or  the  guillotine. 
Among  these  was  the  Marquise,  who  alone  preserved  her 
proud  self-possession,  and  sat  in  all  her  accustomed  dignity ; 
while  close  beside  her  an  angry  controversy  was  maintained 
as  to  their  future  destiny,  —  the  Commissary  firmly  refusing 


16  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

to  receive  them  for  execution,  and  the  Delegate  of  the 
Temple,  as  he  was  styled,  as  flatly  asserting  that  he  would 
not  reconduct  them  to  prison.  The  populace  soon  grew 
interested  in  the  dispute,  and  the  most  violent  altercations 
arose  among  the  partisans  of  each  side  of  the  question. 

Meanwhile  the  Commissary  and  his  assistants  prepared  to 
depart.  Already  the  massive  drapery  of  red  cloth  was 
drawn  over  the  guillotine,  and  every  preparation  made  for 
withdrawing,  when  the  mob,  doubtless  dissatisfied  that  they 
should  be  defrauded  of  any  portion  of  the  entertainment, 
began  to  climb  over  the  wooden  barricades,  and,  with  fm'ious 
cries  and  shouts,  threaten  vengeance  upon  any  who  would 
screen  the  enemies  of  the  people. 

The  troops  resisted  the  movement,  but  rather  with  the  air 
of  men  entreating  calmness,  than  with  the  spirit  of  soldiery. 
It  was  plain  to  see  on  which  side  the  true  force  lay. 

"  If  you  will  not  do  it,  the  people  will  do  it  for  you," 
whispered  the  delegate  to  the  Commissary ;  ' '  and  who  is  to 
say  where  they  will  stop  when  their  hands  once  learn  the 
trick !  " 

The  Commissary  grew  li^idly  pale,  and  made  no  reply. 

"See  there!"  rejoined  the  other,  "they  are  carrying  a 
fellow  on  their  shoulders  yonder ;  they  mean  him  to  be  the 
executioner." 

"But  I  dare  not  —  I  cannot  —  without  my  orders." 

"  Are  not  the  people  sovereign?  Whose  will  have  we 
sworn  to  obey  but  theirs  ?  " 

"  My  own  head  would  be  the  penalty  if  I  yielded." 

"  It  will  be,  if  you  resist ;  even  now  it  is  too  late." 

And  as  he  spoke  he  sprang  from  the  scaffold,  and  disap- 
peared in  the  dense  crowd  that  already  thronged  the  space 
within  the  rails. 

By  this  time  the  populace  were  not  only  masters  of  the 
area  around,  but  had  also  gained  the  scaffold  itself,  from 
which  many  of  them  seemed  endeavoring  to  harangue  the 
mob ;  others  contenting  themselves  with  imitating  the  ges- 
tures of  the  Commissary  and  his  functionaries.  It  was  a 
scene  of  the  wildest  uproar  and  confusion,  —  frantic  cries  and 
screams,  ribald  songs  and  fiendish  yellings  on  every  side. 
The  guillotine  was  again  uncovered,  and  the  great  crimson 


"THE  DAYS  OF  THE    GUILLOTINE."  17 

drapery,  torn  into  fragments,  was  waved  about  like  flags,  or 
twisted  into  uncouth  head-dresses.  The  Commissary,  failing 
in  every  attempt  to  restore  order  peaceably,  and  either  not 
possessing  a  sufficient  force  or  distrusting  the  temper  of  the 
soldiers,  descended  from  the  scaffold,  and  gave  the  order  to 
march.  This  act  of  submission  was  hailed  by  the  mob  with 
the  most  furious  yell  of  triumph.  Up  to  that  very  moment 
they  had  never  credited  the  bare  possibility  of  a  victory  ;  and 
now  they  saw  themselves  suddenly  masters  of  the  field,  — 
the  troops  in  all  the  array  of  horse  and  foot,  retiring  in  dis- 
comfiture. Their  exultation  knew  no  bounds ;  and,  doubt- 
less, had  there  been  amongst  them  those  with  skill  and  daring 
to  profit  by  the  enthusiasm,  the  torrent  had  rushed  a  longer 
and  more  terrific  course  than  through  the  blood-steeped  clay 
of  the  Place  de  la  Greve. 

"  Here  is  the  man  we  want,"  shouted  a  deep  voice.  "  St. 
Just  told  us  t'  other  day  that  the  occasion  never  failed  to 
produce  one ;  and  see,  here  is  Jean  Gougou ;  and  though 
he  's  but  two  feet  high,  his  fingers  can  reach  the  pin  of  the 
guillotine." 

And  he  held  aloft  on  his  shoulders  a  misshapen  dwarf, 
who  was  well-known  on  the  Pont  Neuf ,  where  he  gained  his 
living  by  singing  infamous  songs  and  performing  mockeries 
of  the  service  of  the  mass.  A  cheer  of  welcome  acknow- 
ledged this  speech,  to  which  the  dwarf  responded  by  a  mock 
benediction,  which  he  bestowed  with  all  the  ceremonious 
observance  of  an  archbishop.  Shouts  of  the  wildest  laughter 
followed  this  ribaldry,  and  in  a  kind  of  triumph  they  carried 
him  up  the  steps  and  deposited  him  on  the  scaffold. 

Ascending  one  of  the  chairs,  the  little  wretch  proceeded 
to  address  the  mob,  which  he  did  with  all  the  ease  and  com- 
posure of  a  practised  public  speaker.  Not  a  murmur  was 
heard  in  that  tumultuous  assemblage,  as  he,  with  a  most 
admirable  imitation  of  Hebert,  then  the  popular  idol,  assured 
them  that  France  was  at  that  instant  the  envy  of  surround- 
ing nations ;  and  that,  bating  certain  little  weaknesses  on 
the  score  of  humanity  —  certain  traits  of  softness  and  over- 
mercy —  her  citizens  realized  all  that  ever  had  been  said  of 
angels.  From  thence  he  passed  on  to  a  mimicry  of  Marat, 
of   Danton,  and  of  Robespierre,  —  tearing   off   his    cravat, 

2 


18  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

baring  his  breast,  and  performing  all  the  oft-exhibited  antics 
of  the  latter,  as  he  vociferated,  in  a  wild  scream,  the  well- 
known  peroration  of  a  speech  he  had  lately  made,  "If  we 
look  for  a  glorious  morrow  of  freedom,  the  sun  of  out 
slavery  must  set  in  blood !  " 

However  amused  by  the  dwarf's  exhibition,  a  feeling  of 
impatience  began  to  manifest  itself  among  the  mob,  who  felt 
that  by  any  longer  delay  it  was  possible  time  would  be  given 
for  fresh  ti'oops  to  arrive,  and  the  glorious  opportunity  of 
popular  sovereignty  be  lost  in  the  very  hour  of  victory. 

"To  work,  to  work.  Master  Gougon !  "  shouted  hundreds 
of  voices;  "we  cannot  spend  our  day  in  listening  to 
oratory." 

"You  forget,  my  dear  friends,"  said  he,  blandly,  "that 
this  is  to  me  a  new  walk  in  life.  I  have  much  to  learn,  ere 
I  can  acquit  myself  worthily  to  the  Republic." 

"  AVe  have  no  leisure  for  preparatory  studies,  Gougon," 
cried  a  fellow  below  the  scaffold. 

"  Let  me,  then,  just  begin  with  monsieur,"  said  the  dwarf, 
pointing  to  the  last  speaker,  and  a  shout  of  laughter  closed 
the  sentence. 

A  brief  and  angry  dispute  now  arose  as  to  what  was  to  be 
done,  and  it  is  more  than  doubtful  how  the  debate  might 
have  ended,  when  Gougon,  with  a  readmess  all  his  own, 
concluded  the  discussion  by  saying,  — 

"  I  have  it,  citizens,  I  have  it.  There  is  a  lady  here,  who, 
however  respectable  her  family  and  connections,  will  leave 
few  to  mourn  her  loss.  She  is,  in  a  manner,  public  property, 
and  if  not  born  on  the  soil,  at  least  a  naturalized  French- 
woman. We  have  done  a  great  deal  for  her  and  in  her 
name,  for  some  time  back,  and  I  am  not  aware  of  any 
singular  benefit  she  has  rendered  us.  With  youi'  permission, 
then,  I  '11  begin  with  her." 

"  Name,  name  —  name  her  !  "  was  cried  by  thousands. 

"ia  voila"  said  he,  archly,  as  he  pointed  with  his  thumb 
to  the  wooden  effigy  of  Liberty  above  his  head. 

The  absurdity  of  the  suggestion  was  more  than  enough 
for  its  success.  A  dozen  hands  were  speedily  at  work,  and 
down  came  the  Goddess  of  Liberty !  The  other  details  of 
an  execution  were  hurried  over  with  all  the  speed  of  prac- 


"THE  DAYS  OF  THE  GUILLOTINE."  19 

tised  address,  and  the  figure  was  placed  beneath  the  drop. 
Down  fell  the  axe,  and  Gougon,  lifting  up  the  wooden  head, 
paraded  it  about  the  scaffold,  crying,  — 

' '  Behold  !  an  enemy  of  France  !  '  Long  live  the  Repub- 
lic, one  and  indivisible.' " 

Loud  and  wild  were  the  shouts  of  laughter  from  this 
brutal  mockery ;  and  for  a  time  it  almost  seemed  as  if  the 
ribaldry  had  turned  the  mob  from  the  sterner  passions  of 
their  vengeance.  This  hope,  if  one  there  ever  cherished  it, 
was  short-lived  ;  and  again  the  cry  arose  for  blood.  It  was 
too  plain  that  no  momentary  diversion,  no  passing  distrac- 
tion, could  withdraw  them  from  that  lust  for  cruelty  that 
had  now  gi'own  into  a  passion. 

And  now  a  bustle  and  movement  of  those  around  the 
stau's  showed  that  something  was  in  preparation ;  and  in  the 
next  moment  the  old  Marquise  was  led  forward  between 
two  men. 

' '  Where  is  the  order  for  this  woman's  execution  ?  "  asked 
the  dwarf,  mimicking  the  style  and  aii*  of  the  Commissary. 

"  ^Ye  give  it :  it  is  from  us  !  "  shouted  the  mob,  with  one 
savage  roar. 

Gougon  removed  his  cap,  and  bowed  a  token  of  obedience. 

"  Let  us  proceed  in  order,  citizens,"  said  he,  gravely ;  "I 
see  no  priest  here." 

"  Shrive  her  yourself,  Gougon;  few  know  the  mummeries 
better!  "  cried  a  voice. 

^'  Is  there  not  one  here  can  remember  a  prayer,  or  even  a 
verse  of  the  offices  ? "  said  Gougon,  with  a  well-affected 
horror  in  his  voice. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  do,"  cried  I,  my  zeal  overcoming  all  sense 
of  the  mockery  in  which  the  words  were  spoken ;  "I  know 
them  all  by  heart,  and  can  repeat  them  from  '  lux  beatissima ' 
down  to  '  hora  mortis  ; ' "  and  as  if  to  gain  credence  for  my 
self-laudation,  I  began  at  once  to  recite,  in  the  sing-song 
tone  of  the  seminary,  — 

"  Salve,  mater  salvatoris, 
Pons  salutis,  vas  honoris  ; 
Scala  cceli,  porta  et  via, 
Salve  semper,  0  Maria !  " 


20  MAUEICE    TTERNAY. 

It  is  possible  I  should  have  gone  ou  to  the  very  end.  if  the 
uproarious  laughter  which  rang  around  had  not  stopped  me. 

' '  There  's  a  brave  youth !  "  cried  Gougon,  pointing  towards 
me,  with  mock  admkation.  "If  it  ever  come  to  pass  —  as 
what  may  not  in  these  strange  times  ?  —  that  we  tui'n  to 
priestcraft  again,  thou  shalt  be  the  first  archbishop  of  Paris. 
Who  taught  thee  that  famous  canticle  ?  " 

"The  Pere  Michel,"  replied  I.  in  no  way  conscious  of 
the  ridicule  bestowed  upon  me.  —  --the  Pere  Michel  of  St. 
Blois." 

The  old  lady  lifted  up  her  head  at  these  words,  and  her 
dark  eyes  rested  steadily  upon  me ;  and  then,  with  a  sign  of 
her  hand,  she  motioned  to  me  to  come  over  to  her. 

"Yes;  let  him  come,"  said  Gougon.  as  if  answering  the 
half -reluctant  glances  of  the  crowd.  And  now  I  was  assisted 
to  descend,  and  passed  along  over  the  heads  of  the  people, 
till  I  was  placed  upon  the  scaffold.  Xever  can  I  forget  the 
terror  of  that  moment,  as  I  stood  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
teiTible  guillotine,  and  saw  beside  me  the  horrid  basket 
splashed  with  recent  blood. 

"Look  not  at  these  things,  child,"  said  the  old  lady,  as 
she  took  my  hand  and  drew  me  towards  her.  ••  but  listen  to 
me,  and  mark  my  words  well." 

"I  will.  I  will,"  cried  I,  as  the  hot  tears  rolled  down  my 
cheeks. 

•  •  Tell  the  Pere  —  you  will  see  him  to-night  —  tell  him  that 
I  have  changed  my  mind,  and  resolved  upon  another  course. 
and  that  he  is  not  to  leave  Paris.  Let  them  remain.  The 
torrent  runs  too  rapidly  to  last.  This  cannot  endm*e  much 
longer.  "We  shall  be  among  the  last  victims.  You  hear  me. 
child?" 

"I  do,  I  do,"  cried  I,  sobbing.  ••TThy  is  not  the  P^re 
Michel  with  you  now?  " 

"Because  he  is  suing  for  my  pardon.  —  asking  for  mercy 
where  its  veiT  name  is  a  derision.  Kneel  down  beside  me. 
and  repeat  the  '  angelus.'  " 

I  took  off  my  cap,  and  knelt  down  at  her  feet,  reciting,  in 
a  voice  broken  by  emotion,  the  words  of  the  prayer.  She 
repeated  each  syllable  after  me,  in  a  tone  full  and  unshaken ; 
and  then  stooping,  she  took  up  the  lily  which  lay  in  my  cap. 


"THE   DAYS  OF  THE   GUILLOTINE."  21 

She  pressed  it  to  her  lips  two  or  three  times  passionately. 
"  Give  it  to  her;  tell  her  I  kissed  it  at  my  last  moment. 
Tell  her  — " 

"  This  '  shrift '  is  beyond  endurance.  Away,  holy  father !  " 
cried  Gougon,  as  he  pushed  me  rudely  back,  and  seized  the 
Marquise  by  the  wrist.  A  faint  cry  escaped  her.  I  heard 
no  more ;  for  jostled  and  pushed  about  by  the  crowd,  I  was 
driven  to  the  very  rails  of  the  scaffold.  Stepping  beneath 
these,  I  mingled  with  the  mob  beneath ;  and  burning  with 
eagerness  to  escape  a  scene,  to  have  witnessed  which  would 
almost  have  made  my  heart  break,  I  forced  my  way  into  the 
dense  mass,  and  by  squeezing  and  creeping  succeeded  at 
last  in  penetrating  to  the  verge  of  the  Place.  A  terrible 
shout,  and  a  rocking  motion  of  the  mob  like  the  heavy 
sui'ging  of  the  sea,  told  me  that  all  was  over ;  but  I  never 
looked  back  to  the  fatal  spot,  but  having  gained  the  open 
streets,  ran  at  the  top  of  my  speed  towards  home. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  RESTAURANT  "  AU  SCELERAT." 

As  I  gained  the  street,  at  a  distance  from  the  Place,  I  was 
able  to  increase  my  speed ;  and  I  did  so  with  an  eagerness 
as  if  the  world  depended  on  my  haste.  At  any  other  time 
I  would  have  bethought  me  of  my  disobedience  to  the  Pere's 
commands,  and  looked  forward  to  meeting  him  with  shame 
and  sorrow;  but  now  I  felt  a  kind  of  importance  in  the 
charge  intrusted  to  me.  I  regarded  my  mission  as  some- 
thing superior  to  any  petty  consideration  of  self,  while  the 
very  proximity  in  which  I  had  stood  to  peril  and  death  made 
me  seem  a  hero  in  my  own  eyes. 

At  last  I  reached  the  street  where  we  lived,  and,  almost 
breathless  with  exertion,  gained  the  door.  What  was  my 
amazement,  however,  to  find  it  guarded  by  a  sentry,  —  a 
large,  solemn-looking  fellow,  with  a  tattered  cocked  hat  on 
his  head,  and  a  pair  of  worn  striped  trousers  on  his  legs,  who 
cried  out,  as  I  appeared,  ^^Halte  la?  "  in  a  voice  that  at  once 
arrested  my  steps. 

"Where  to,  youngster?"  said  he,  in  a  somewhat  melted 
tone,  seeing  the  shock  his  first  words  had  caused  me. 

"  I  am  going  home,  su-,"  said  I,  submissively ;  "I  live  at 
the  third  story,  in  the  apartment  of  the  P^re  Michel." 

"  The  P^re  Michel  will  live  there  no  longer,  my  boy ;  his 
apartment  is  now  in  the  Temple,"  said  he,  slowly. 

' '  In  the  Temple  !  "  said  I,  whose  memory  at  once  recalled 
my  father's  fate ;  and  then,  unable  to  control  my  feelings, 
I  sat  down  upon  the  steps  and  burst  into  tears. 

"There,  there,  child,  you  must  not  cry  thus,"  said  he; 
"  these  are  not  days  when  one  should  weep  over  misfortunes, 
—  they  come  too  fast  and  too  thick  on  all  of  us  for  that. 
The  P^re  was  your  tutor,  I  suppose  ? " 


THE   EESTAURANT  "AU  SC'ELMaT."  23 

I  nodded. 

"  And  your  father  —  where  is  he?  " 

"Dead." 

He  made  a  sign  to  imitate  the  guillotine,  and  I  assented 
by  another  nod. 

"  Was  he  a  Royalist,  boy  ?  " 

"He  was  an  officer  in  the  Garde  du  Corps,"  said  I, 
proudly. 

The  soldier  shook  his  head  mournfully,  but  with  what 
meaning  I  know  not. 

"And  your  mother,  boy?" 

"  I  do  not  know  where  she  is,"  said  I,  again  relapsing  into 
tears  at  the  thought  of  my  utter  desolation. 

The  old  soldier  leaned  upon  his  musket  in  profound  thought, 
and  for  some  time  did  not  utter  a  word.    At  last  he  said,  — 

' '  There  is  nothing  but  the  Hotel  de  Ville  for  you,  my 
child.  They  say  that  the  Republic  adopts  all  the  orphans  of 
France.     What  she  does  with  them  I  cannot  tell." 

"But  I  can,  though,"  replied  I,  fiercely;  "the  Noyades 
or  the  Seine  are  a  quick  and  sure  provision ;  I  saw  eighty 
drowned  one  morning  below  the  Pont  Neuf,  myself." 

"That  tongue  of  yours  will  bring  you  into  trouble, 
youngster,"  said  he,  reprovingly;  "  mind  that  you  say  not 
such  things  as  these." 

"  What  worse  fortune  can  betide  me  than  to  see  my  father 
die  at  the  guillotine,  and  my  last,  my  only  friend,  carried 
away  to  prison  ?  " 

"  You  have  no  care  for  your  own  neck,  then?" 

' '  Why  should  I  —  what  value  has  life  for  me  ?  " 

"Then  it  will  be  spared  to  you,"  said  he,  sententiously ; 
"  mark  my  words,  lad.  You  need  never  fear  death  till  you 
begin  to  love  life.  Get  up,  my  poor  boy ;  you  must  not  be 
found  there  when  the  relief  comes,  and  that  will  be  soon. 
This  is  all  that  I  have,"  said  he,  placing  three  sous  in  my 
palm,  "which  will  buy  a  loaf;  to-morrow  there  may  be 
better  luck  in  store  for  you." 

I  shook  the  rough  hand  he  offered  with  cordial  gratitude, 
and  resolved  to  bear  myself  as  like  a  man  as  I  could.  I 
drew  myself  up,  touched  my  cap  in  soldier-like  fashion,  and 
cried    out    adieu,    and    then    descending    into    the    street, 


24  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

hurried  awaj^  to  hide  the  tears  that  were  abnost  suffocating 
me. 

Hour  after  hour  I  walked  the  streets ;  the  mere  act  of 
motion  seemed  to  divert  ni}^  grief ;  and  it  was  oul}-  when 
foot-sore  and  wear^^  that  I  could  march  no  longer,  and  my 
sorrows  came  back  in  full  force,  and  overwhelmed  me  in 
theii'  flow.  It  was  less  pride  or  shame  than  a  sense  of  my 
utter  helplessness  that  prevented  me  addressing  any  one  of 
the  hundreds  who  passed  me.  I  bethought  me  of  my  in- 
ability to  do  anything  for  my  own  support,  and  it  was  this 
consciousness  that  served  to  weigh  me  down  more  than  all 
else ;  and  yet  I  felt  with  what  devotion  I  could  serve  him 
who  would  but  treat  me  with  the  kindness  he  might  bestow 
upon  his  dog ;  I  fancied  with  what  zeal  I  could  descend  to 
very  slaver}"  for  one  word  of  affection.  The  streets  were 
crowded  with  people ;  groups  were  gathered  here  and  there, 
either  listening  to  some  mob  orator  of  the  day,  or  hearing 
the  newspapers  read  aloud.  I  tried,  by  forcing  my  way  into 
the  crowd,  to  feel  myself  "  one  of  them,"  and  to  think  that 
I  had  my  share  of  interest  in  what  was  going  f  oi-rs^ard,  but  in 
vain.  Of  the  topics  discussed  I  knew  nothing,  and  of  the 
bystanders  none  even  noticed  me.  High-swelling  phrases 
met  the  ear  at  every  moment,  that  sounded  strangely  enough 
to  me.  They  spoke  of  Fraternity,  of  that  brotherhood  which 
linked  man  to  man  in  close  affection ;  of  Equality,  that  made 
all  sharers  in  this  world's  goods ;  of  Liberty,  that  gave 
freedom  to  every  noble  aspiration  and  generous  thought; 
and  for  an  instant,  carried  away  by  the  glorious  illusion,  I 
even  forgot  my  solitary  condition,  and  felt  proud  of  my 
heritage  as  a  youth  of  France.  I  looked  around  me,  how- 
ever, and  what  faces  met  my  gaze !  —  the  same  fearful 
countenances  I  had  seen  around  the  scaffold ;  the  wretches, 
blood-stained  and  influenced  by  passion,  their  bloated  cheeks 
and  strained  eye-balls  glowing  with  intemperance  ;  their  oaths, 
their  gestures,  their  very  voices  having  something  terrible 
in  them.  The  mockery  soon  disgusted  me,  and  I  moved 
away,  again  to  wander  about  without  object  or  direction 
through  the  weary  streets. 

It  was  past  midnight  when  I  found  myself,  without  know- 
ing where  I  was,  in  a  large  open  space,  in  the  midst  of  which 


THE   RESTAURANT  "AU  SC^L^RAT."  25 

a  solitary  lamp  was  burning.  I  approached  it,  and  to  my 
horror  saw  that  it  was  the  guillotine,  over  which  in  mournful 
cadence  a  lantern  swung,  creaking  its  chain  as  the  night 
wind  stirred  it.  The  dim  outline  of  the  fearful  scaffold,  the 
fitful  light  that  fell  upon  the  platform,  and  the  silence,  — 
all  conspired  to  strike  terror  into  my  heart;  all  I  had  so 
lately  witnessed  seemed  to  rise  up  again  before  me,  and  the 
victims  seemed  to  stand  up  again,  pale  and  livid  and  shud- 
dering, as  last  I  saw  them. 

I  knelt  down  and  tried  to  pray  ;  but  terror  was  too  power- 
ful to  suffer  my  thoughts  to  take  this  direction,  and,  half- 
fainting  with  fear  and  exhaustion,  I  lay  down  upon  the 
ground  and  slept,  —  slept  beneath  the  platform  of  the  guillo- 
tine. Not  a  dream  crossed  my  slumber,  nor  did  I  awake 
till  dawn  of  day,  when  the  low  rumbling  of  the  peasants' 
carts  aroused  me,  as  they  were  proceeding  to  the  market. 
I  know  not  why  or  whence,  but  I  arose  from  the  damp  earth, 
and  looked  about  me  with  a  more  daring  and  courageous 
spirit  than  I  had  hitherto  felt.  It  was  May ;  the  first  bright 
rays  of  sunshine  were  slanting  along  the  Place,  and  the 
fresh,  brisk  air  felt  invigorating  and  cheering.  Whither  to  ? 
asked  I  of  myself,  and  my  eyes  turned  from  the  dense  streets 
and  thoroughfares  of  the  great  city  to  the  far-off  hills  beyond 
the  barrier,  and  for  a  moment  I  hesitated  which  road  to  take. 
I  almost  seemed  to  feel  as  if  the  decision  involved  my  whole 
future  fortune,  —  whether  I  should  live  and  die  in  the  humble 
condition  of  a  peasant,  or  play  for  a  great  stake  in  life. 
"  Yes,"  said  I,  after  a  short  hesitation,  "  I  will  remain  here : 
in  the  terrible  conflict  going  forward,  many  must  be  new 
adventurers,  and  never  was  any  one  more  greedy  to  learn 
the  trade  than  myself.  I  will  throw  sorrow  behind  me. 
Yesterday's  tears  are  the  last  I  shall  shed.  Now  for  a  bold 
heart  and  a  ready  will,  and  here  goes  for  the  world !"  With 
these  stout  words  I  placed  my  cap  jauntily  on  one  side  of 
my  head,  and  with  a  fearless  ah'  marched  off  for  the  very 
centre  of  the  city. 

For  some  hours  I  amused  myself  gazing  at  the  splendid 
shops,  or  staring  in  at  the  richly-decorated  cafes,  where  the 
young  celebrities  of  the  day  were  assembled  at  breakfast,  in 
all  the  extravagance  of  the  new-fangled  costume.     Then  I 


26  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

followed  the  guard  to  the  parade  at  the  Carrousel,  and  lis- 
tened to  the  band ;  quittmg  which  I  wandered  along  the 
quays,  watching  the  boats  as  they  dragged  the  river  in  search 
of  murdered  bodies  or  suicides.  Thence  I  returned  to  the 
Palais  Royal  and  listened  to  the  news  of  the  day,  as  read 
out  by  some  elected  enlightener  of  his  countrymen. 

By  what  chance  I  know  not,  but  at  last  my  rambling  steps 
brought  me  opposite  to  the  great  solemn-looking  towers  of 
the  Temple,  —  the  gloomy  prison,  within  whose  walls  hun- 
dreds were  then  awaiting  the  fate  which  already  their  friends 
had  suffered.  Little  groups,  gathered  here  and  there  in  the 
open  Place,  were  communicating  to  the  prisoners  by  signs 
and  gestures,  and  from  many  a  small  grated  window,  at  an 
immense  height,  handkerchiefs  were  seen  to  wave  in  recog- 
nition of  those  below.  These  signals  seemed  to  excite 
neither  watchfulness  nor  prevention,  —  indeed,  they  needed 
none ;  and  perhaps  the  very  suspense  they  excited  was  a  tor- 
ture that  pleased  the  inhuman  jailers.  Whatever  the  reason, 
the  custom  was  tolerated,  and  was  apparently  enjoyed  at 
that  moment  by  several  of  the  turnkeys,  who  sat  at  the  win- 
dows, much  amused  at  the  efforts  made  to  communicate. 
Interested  by  the  sight,  I  sat  down  upon  a  stone  bench  to 
watch  the  scene,  and  fancied  that  I  could  read  something  of 
the  rank  and  condition  of  those  who  signalled  from  below 
their  messages  of  hope  or  fear.  At  last  a  deep  bell  within 
the  prison  tolled  the  hour  of  noon ;  and  now  every  window 
was  suddenly  deserted.  It  was  the  hour  for  the  muster  of 
the  prisoners,  which  always  took  place  before  the  dinner  at 
one  o'clock.  The  curious  groups  soon  after  broke  up.  A 
few  lingered  around  the  gate,  with,  perhaps,  some  hope  of 
admission  to  visit  then-  friends ;  but  the  greater  number 
departed. 

My  hunger  was  now  such  that  I  could  no  longer  deny  my- 
self the  long-promised  meal,  and  I  looked  about  me  for  a 
shop  where  I  might  buy  a  loaf  of  bread.  In  my  search,  I 
suddenl}^  found  myself  opposite  an  immense  shop,  where 
viands  of  every  tempting  description  were  ranged  with  all 
that  artistic  skill  so  purely  Parisian,  making  up  a  picture 
whose  composition  Snyders  would  not  have  despised.  Over 
the  door  was  a  painting  of  a  miserable  wretch,  with  hands 


THE  RESTAURANT  "AU  SC£l£RAT."       27 

bound  behind  him,  and  his  hair  cut  close  in  the  well-known 
crop  for  the  scaffold;  and  underneath  was  written,  "  Au 
Scelerat ;  "  while  on  a  large  board,  in  gilt  letters,  ran  the 
inscription,  -^ 

"  Boivin  Pere  et  fils,  Traiteurs  pour  MM.  les  Condamnees." 

I  could  scarcely  credit  my  eyes,  as  I  read  and  re-read  this 
infamous  announcement ;  but  there  it  stood,  and  in  the 
crowd  that  poured  incessantly  to  and  from  the  door  I  saw 
the  success  that  attended  the  traffic.  A  ragged  knot  were 
gathered  around  the  window,  eagerly  gazing  at  something, 
which,  by  then*  exclamations,  seemed  to  claim  all  then- 
admiration.  I  pressed  forward  to  see  what  it  was,  and  be- 
held a  miniature  guillotine,  which,  turned  by  a  wheel,  was 
employed  to  chop  the  meat  for  sausages.  This  it  was  that 
formed  the  great  object  of  attraction,  even  to  those  to  whom 
the  prototype  had  grown  flat  and  uninteresting. 

Disgusted  as  I  was  by  this  shocking  sight,  I  stood  watch- 
ing all  that  went  forward  within  with  a  strange  interest.  It 
was  a  scene  of  incessant  bustle  and  movement ;  for  now,  as 
one  o'clock  drew  nigh,  various  dinners  were  getting  ready 
for  the  prisoners,  while  parties  of  their  friends  were  assem- 
bling inside.  Of  these  latter  there  seemed  persons  of  every 
rank  and  condition,  —  some,  dressed  in  all  the  brilliancy  of 
the  mode;  others,  whose  garments  bespoke  dkest  poverty. 
There  were  women,  too,  whose  costume  emulated  the  classic 
drapery  of  the  ancients,  and  who  displayed,  in  their  looped 
togas,  no  niggard  share  of  their  forms;  while  others,  in 
shabby  mourning,  sat  in  obscure  corners,  not  noticing  the 
scene  before  them,  nor  noticed  themselves.  A  strange  equi- 
page, with  two  horses  extravagantly  bedizened  with  rosettes 
and  bouquets,  stood  at  the  door;  and  as  I  looked,  a  pale, 
haggard-looking  man,  whose  foppery  in  dress  contrasted 
oddly  with  his  care-worn  expression,  hurried  from  the  shop, 
and  sprung  into  the  carriage.  In  doing  so,  a  pocket-book 
fell  from  his  pocket.  I  took  it  up;  but  as  I  did  so,  the 
carriage  was  already  away,  and  far  beyond  my  power  to 
overtake  it. 

Without  stopping  to  examine  my  prize,  or  hesitating  for  a 
second,  I  entered  the  restaurant,  and  asked  for  M.  Boivin. 


28  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

''  Give  your  orders  to  me,  boy,"  said  a  man  busily  at 
work  behind  the  counter. 

''  My  business  is  with  himself,"  said  I,  stoutly. 

"  Then  you'll  have  to  wait  with  some  patience,"  said  he, 
sneeringly. 

'•I  can  do  so,"  was  my  answer,  and  I  sat  down  in  the 
shop. 

I  might  have  been  half-an-hour  thus  seated,  when  an  enor- 
mously fat  man,  with  a  huge  bonnet  rouge  on  his  head, 
entered  from  an  inner  room,  and  passing  close  to  where  I 
was  caught  sight  of  me. 

"Who  are  you,  suTah  —  what  brings  you  here?" 

"  I  want  to  speak  with  M.  Boivin." 

"Then  speak,"  said  he,  placing  his  hand  upon  his 
immense  chest. 

"  It  must  be  alone,"  said  I. 

"  How  so,  alone,  surah?  "  said  he,  growing  suddenly  pale  ; 
"I  have  no  secrets.  I  know  of  nothing  that  may  not  be 
told  before  all  the  world." 

Though  he  said  this  in  a  kind  of  appeal  to  all  around,  the 
dubious  looks  and  glances  interchanged  seemed  to  make  him 
far  from  comfortable. 

"  So  3'ou  refuse  me,  then?  "  said  I,  taking  up  my  cap,  and 
preparing  to  depart. 

"Come  hither,"  said  he,  leading  the  way  into  the  room 
from  which  he  had  emerged.  It  was  a  very  small  chamber, 
the  most  conspicuous  ornaments  of  which  were  busts  and 
pictures  of  the  various  celebrities  of  the  Revolution.  Some 
of  these  latter  were  framed  ostentatiously,  and  one,  occupy- 
ing the  post  of  honor  above  the  chimney,  at  once  attracted 
me ;  for  in  a  glance  I  saw  that  it  was  a  portrait  of  him 
who  owned  the  pocket-book,  and  bore  beneath  it  the  name 
"  Robespierre." 

"  Now,  su,  for  your  communication,"  said  Boivin  ;  "  and 
take  care  that  it  is  of  sufficient  importance  to  warrant  the 
interview  you  have  asked  for." 

"  I  have  no  fears  on  that  score,"  said  I,  calmly,  still  scan- 
ning the  features  of  the  portrait,  and  satisfying  myself  of 
their  identity. 

"  Look  at  me,  sir,  and  not  at  that  picture,"  said  Boivin. 


THE  RESTAURANT  "AU  SCELERAT."       29 

"And  yet  it  is  of  M.  Robespierre  I  have  to  speak,"  said 
I,  coolly. 

"  How  so  —  of  M.  Robespierre,  boy?  What  is  the  mean- 
ing of  this?  If  it  be  a  snare  —  if  this  be  a  trick,  you  never 
leave  this  spot  living,"  cried  he,  as  he  placed  a  massive  hand 
on  each  of  my  shoulders  and  shook  me  violently. 

"I  am  not  so  easily  to  be  terrified,  citoyen,"  said  I ;  "  nor 
have  I  any  secret  cause  for  fear,  whatever  you  may  have. 
My  business  is  of  another  kind.  This  morning,  in  passing 
out  to  his  carnage,  he  dropped  his  pocket-book,  which  I 
picked  up.  Its  contents  may  well  be  of  a  kind  that  should 
not  be  read  by  other  eyes  than  his  own.  My  request  is, 
then,  that  you  will  seal  it  up  before  me,  and  then  send  some 
one  along  with  me,  while  I  restore  it  to  its  owner." 

"  Is  this  a  snare?  What  secret  mischief  have  we  here?" 
said  Boivin,  half  aloud,  as  he  wiped  the  cold  drops  of  per- 
spu'ation  from  his  forehead. 

"Any  mishap  that  follows  will  depend  upon  your  refusal 
to  do  what  I  ask." 

"How  so  —  I  never  refused  it;  you  dare  not  tell  M. 
Robespierre  that  I  refused,  sirrah?  " 

"  I  will  tell  him  nothing  that  is  untrue,"  said  I,  calmly; 
for  already  a  sense  of  power  had  gifted  me  with  composure. 
"If  M.  Robespierre  —  " 

' '  Who  speaks  of  me  here  ?  "  cried  the  identical  personage, 
as  he  dashed  hurriedly  into  the  room,  and  then,  not  waiting 
for  the  reply,  went  on,  —  "You  must  send  out  your  scouts 
on  every  side !  I  lost  my  pocket-book  as  I  left  this  a  while 
ago." 

"  It  is  here,  sh-,"  said  I,  presenting  it  at  once. 

' '  How  —  where  was  it  found  —  in  whose  keeping  has  it 
been,  boy?" 

' '  In  mine  only ;  I  took  it  from  the  ground  the  same  mo- 
ment that  you  dropped  it,  and  then  came  here  to  place  it  in 
M.  Boivin's  hands." 

' '  Who  has  taken  care  of  it  since  that  time  ?  "  continued 
Robespierre,  with  a  slow  and  sneering  accentuation  on  every 
word. 

' '  The  pocket-book  has  never  left  my  possession  since  it 
quitted  yours,"  was  my  reply. 


30  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"Just  so,"  broke  in  Boivin,  now  slowly  recovering  from 
his  terror.  "Of  its  contents  I  know  nothing;  nor  have  I 
sought  to  know  anything." 

Robespierre  looked  at  me  as  if  to  corroborate  this  state- 
ment, and  I  nodded  my  head  in  acquiescence. 

"  Who  is  your  father,  boy  ?  " 

"  I  have  none,  —  he  was  gniillotined." 

"  His  name?" 

"Tiernay." 

"  Ah,  I  remember ;  he  was  called  I'lrlandais." 

"The  same." 

' '  A  famous  Royalist  was  that  same  Tiernay,  and,  doubt- 
less, contrived  to  leave  a  heritage  of  his  opinions  to  his  son." 

"He  left  me  nothing.  I  have  neither  house,  nor  home, 
nor  even  bread  to  eat." 

"  But  you  have  a  head  to  plan  and  a  heart  to  feel, 
youngster;  and  it  is  better  that  fellows  like  you  should  not 
want  a  dinner.  Boivin,  look  to  it  that  he  is  taken  care  of. 
In  a  few  daj's  I  will  relieve  you  of  the  charge.  You  will 
remain  here,  boy ;  there  are  worse  resting  places,  I  promise 
you.  There  are  men  who  call  themselves  teachers  of  the 
people,  who  would  ask  no  better  life  than  free  quarters  on 
Boivin."  And  so  saying,  he  hurriedly  withdrew,  leaving  me 
face  to  face  with  my  host. 

"  So  then,  youngster,"  said  Boivin,  as  he  scratched  his  ear 
thoughtfully,  "I  have  gained  a  pensioner!  ParhJeu!  if  life 
were  not  an  uncertain  thing  in  these  times,  there  's  no  say- 
ing how  long  we  might  not  be  blessed  with  your  amiable 
company." 

"Y"ou  shall  not  be  burthened  heavily,  citoyen,"  said  I; 
"let  me  have  my  dinner  —  I  have  not  eaten  since  yesterda}^ 
morning  —  and  I  will  go  my  ways  peacefully." 

"Which  means  straight  to  Robespierre's  dwelling,  to  tell 
him  that  I  have  turned  you  out  of  doors  —  eh,  sirrah  ?  " 

"  Y"ou  mistake  me  much,"  said  I;  "this  would  be  sorry 
gratitude  for  eaten  bread.  I  meant  what  I  said,  —  that  I 
will  not  be  an  unwelcome  guest,  even  though  the  alternative 
be,  as  it  is,  something  very  nigh  starvation." 

Boivin  did  not  seem  clearly  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of 
what  I   said ;    or   perhaps   my  whole  conduct   and   bearing 


THE  KESTAURANT  "AU  SCELERAT."       31 

puzzled  him,  for  he  made  no  reply  for  several  seconds.  At 
last,  with  a  kind  of  sigh,  he  said,  — 

' '  AVell,  well,  it  cannot  be  helped !  it  must  be  even  as  he 
wished,  though  the  odds  are  he'll  never  think  more  about 
him.     Come,  lad,  you  shall  have  youi*  dinner." 

I  followed  him  through  a  narrow,  unlighted  passage, 
which  opened  into  a  room  where  at  a  long  table  were 
seated  a  number  of  men  and  boys  at  dinner.  Some  were 
dressed  as  cooks ;  others  wore  a  kind  of  gray  blouse,  with  a 
badge  upon  the  arm  bearing  the  name  "  Boivin"  in  large 
letters,  and  were,  as  I  afterwards  learned,  the  messengers 
employed  to  carry  refreshments  into  the  prison,  and 
who  by  vu'tue  of  this  sign  were  freely  admitted  within 
the  gates. 

Taking  my  place  at  the  board,  I  proceeded  to  eat  with  a 
voracity  that  only  a  long  fast  could  have  excused  ;  and  thus 
took  but  little  heed  of  my  companions,  whose  solecisms  in 
table  etiquette  might  otherwise  have  amused  me. 

''Art  a  Marmiton,  thou?"  asked  an  elderly  man  in  a 
cook's  cap,  as  he  stared  fixedly  at  me  for  some  seconds. 

"  No,"  said  I,  helping  myself,  and  eating  away  as  before. 

"Thou  can'st  never  be  a  commission au*e,  friend,  with  an 
appetite  like  that,"  cried  another ;  "I  would  n't  trust  thee  to 
carry  a  casserole  to  the  fire." 

"  Nor  shall  I  be,"  said  I,  coolly. 

"What  trade,  then,  has  the  good  fortune  to  possess  your 
shining  abilities  ?  " 

' '  A  trade  that  thrives  well  just  now,  friend ;  pass  me  the 
flask." 

"  Indeed,  and  what  may  it  be?  " 

"  Can  you  not  guess,  citoj^en,"  said  I,  "  if  I  tell  you  that 
it  was  never  more  in  vogue,  and  if  there  be  some  who  will 
not  follow  it,  they'll  wear  their  heads  just  as  safely  by 
holding  their  peace?" 

^'-Parhleu!  thou  hast  puzzled  me,"  said  the  chief  cook; 
' '  and  if  thou  be'st  not  a  coffin-maker  — "  A  roar  of 
merriment  cut  short  his  speech,  in  which  I  myself  could 
not  but  join  heartily. 

"That  is,  I  know,"  said  I,  "a  thriving  business;  but 
mine  is  even  better;    and,  not  to  mystify  you  longer,  I'll 


32  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

just  tell  YOU  what  I  am, — which  is,  simply,  a  friend  of  the 
Citoyen  Robespierre." 

The  blow  told  with  full  force ;  and  I  saw,  in  the  terrified 
looks  that  were  interchanged  around  the  table,  that  my 
sojom-n  amongst  them,  whether  destined  to  be  of  short  or 
long  dui-ation,  would  not  be  disturbed  by  further  liberties. 
It  was  truly  a  reign  of  terror  that  same  period !  The  great 
agent  of  everything  was  the  vague  and  shadowy  dread  of 
some  terrible  vengeance,  against  which  precautions  were  all 
in  vain.  Men  met  each  other  with  secret  misgivings,  and 
parted  with  the  same  dreadful  distiiist.  The  ties  of  kindred 
were  all  broken ;  brotherly  affection  died  out.  Existence  was 
become  like  the  struggle  for  life  upon  some  shipwrecked  raft, 
where  each  sought  safety  by  his  neighbor's  doom  !  At  such 
a  time,  with  such  terrible  teachings,  children  became  men 
in  all  the  sterner  featm-es  of  character;  cruelty  is  a  lesson 
so  easily  learned. 

As  for  myself,  energetic  and  ambitious  by  nature,  the 
ascendancy  my  first  assumption  of  power  suggested  was  too 
grateful  a  passion  to  be  relinquished.  The  name  whose  spell 
was  like  a  talisman  became  now  the  secret  engine  by  which 
I  determined  to  work  out  my  fortune.  Robespierre  had  be- 
come to  my  imagination  like  the  slave  of  Aladdin's  lamp, 
and  to  conjure  him  up  was  to  be  all-powerful.  Even  to  Boivin 
himself  this  influence  extended  ;  and  it  was  easy  to  perceive 
that  he  regarded  the  whole  narrative  of  the  pocket-book  as  a 
mere  fable,  invented  to  obtain  a  position  as  a  spy  over  his 
household. 

I  was  not  unwilling  to  encourage  the  belief,  —  it  added  to 
my  importance  by  increasing  the  fear  I  inspired ;  and  thus  I 
walked  indolently  about,  giving  myself  those  airs  of  mou- 
chard  that  I  deemed  most  fitting,  and  taking  a  mischievous 
delight  in  the  terror  I  was  inspmng. 

The  indolence  of  my  life,  however,  soon  wearied  me,  and  I 
began  to  long  for  some  occupation  or  some  pm-suit.  Teeming 
with  excitement  as  the  world  was  —  every  day,  every  hour, 
brimful  of  events  —  it  was  impossible  to  sit  calmly  on  the 
beach,  and  watch  the  great,  foaming  current  of  human  pas- 
sions, without  longing  to  be  in  the  stream.  Had  I  been  a 
man  at  that  time,  I  should  have  become  a  furious  orator  of 


THE   RESTAURANT   "AU  SCllLl&RAT."  33 

the  Mountain,  an  impassioned  leader  of  the  people.  The 
impulse  to  stand  foremost,  to  take  a  bold  and  prominent 
position,  would  have  carried  me  to  any  lengths.  I  had  caught 
up  enough  of  the  horrid  fanaticism  of  the  time  to  think  that 
there  was  something  grand  and  heroic  in  contempt  for  human 
suffering ;  that  a  man  rose  proudly  above  all  the  weakness  of 
his  nature,  when,  in  the  pursuit  of  some  great  object,  he 
stifled  within  his  breast  every  throb  of  affection,  every  sen- 
tunent  of  kindness  and  mercy.  Such  were  the  teachings 
rife  at  the  time,  such  the  first  lessons  that  boyhood  learned ; 
and  oh  what  a  terrible  hour  had  that  been  for  humanity  if 
the  generation  then  born  had  grown  up  to  manhood  un- 
chastened  and  unconverted ! 

But  to  retui'n  to  my  daily  life.  As  I  perceived  that  a 
week  had  now  elapsed,  and  the  Citizen  Robespierre  had  not 
revisited  the  restaurant,  nor  taken  any  interest  in  my  fate 
or  fortunes,  I  began  to  fear  lest  Boivin  should  master 
his  terror  regarding  me,  and  take  heart  to  put  me  out  of 
doors,  —  an  event  which,  in  my  present  incertitude,  would 
have  been  sorely  inconvenient.  I  resolved,  therefore,  to 
practise  a  petty  deception  on  my  host  to  sustain  the  influ- 
ence of  terror  over  him.  This  was  to  absent  myself  every 
day  at  a  certain  hour,  under  the  pretence  of  visiting  my 
patron ;  letting  fall,  from  time  to  time,  certain  indications  to 
show  in  what  part  of  the  city  I  had  been,  and  occasionally, 
as  if  in  an  unguarded  moment,  condescending  to  relate 
some  piece  of  popular  gossip.  None  ventured  to  inquire 
the  source  of  my  information,  not  one  dared  to  impugn  its 
veracity.  Whatever  then-  misgivings  in  secret,  to  myself 
they  displayed  the  most  credulous  faith.  Nor  was  their 
trust  so  much  misplaced,  for  I  had,  in  reality,  become  a 
perfect  chronicle  of  all  that  went  forward  in  Paris,  —  never 
missing  a  debate  in  the  Convention,  where  my  retentive 
memory  could  carry  away  almost  verbally  all  that  I  heard ; 
ever  present  at  every  public  fete  or  procession,  whether  the 
occasions  were  some  insulting  desecration  of  their  former 
faith,  or  some  tasteless  mockery  of  heathen  ceremonial. 

My  powers  of  mimicry,  too,  enabled  me  to  imitate  all  the 
famous  characters  of  the  period ;  and  in  my  assumed 
inviolability  I   used   to   exhibit   the   uncouth   gestures   and 

3 


34  JMAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

spluttering  utterance  of  Marat,  the  wild  and  terrible 
ravings  of  Danton,  and  even  the  reedy  treble  of  my  own 
patron  Robespierre,  as  he  screamed  denunciations  against 
the  enemies  of  the  people.  It  is  true  these  exhibitions  of 
mine  were  only  given  in  secret  to  certain  parties,  who,  by  a 
kind  of  instinct,  I  felt  could  be  trusted. 

Such  was  my  life,  as  one  day,  returning  from  the  Conven- 
tion, I  beheld  a  man  affixing  to  a  wall  a  great  placard,  to 
which  the  passing  crowd  seemed  to  pay  deep  attention.  It 
was  a  decree  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety,  containing 
the  names  of  above  seven  hundred  Royalists  who  were  con- 
demned to  death,  and  who  were  to  be  executed  in  three 
tournees,  on  three  successive  days. 

For  some  time  back  the  mob  had  not  been  gratified  with  a 
spectacle  of  this  nature.  In  the  ribald  language  of  the 
day,  the  "  holy  guillotine  had  grown  thii'sty  from  long 
drought ; "  and  they  read  the  announcement  with  greedy 
eyes,  commenting  as  they  went  upon  those  whose  names 
were  familiar  to  them.  There  were  many  of  noble  birth 
among  the  proscribed,  but  by  far  the  greater  number  were 
priests,  the  whole  sum  of  whose  offending  seemed  written  in 
the  simple  and  touching  words,  ancien  Cure  of  such  a 
parish !  It  was  strange  to  mark  the  bitterness  of  invective 
with  which  the  people  loaded  these  poor  and  innocent  men, 
as  though  they  were  the  source  of  all  their  misfortunes. 
The  lazy  indolence  with  which  they  reproached  them  seemed 
ten  times  more  offensive  in  theii-  eyes  than  the  lives  of  ease 
and  affluence  led  by  the  nobility.  The  fact  was,  they  could 
not  forgive  men  of  their  own  rank  and  condition  what  they 
pardoned  in  the  well-born  and  the  noble,  —  an  inconsistency 
that  has  characterized  democracy  in  other  situations  beside 
this. 

As  I  ran  my  eyes  down  the  list  of  those  confined  in  the 
Temple,  I  came  to  a  name  which  smote  my  heart  with  a 
pang  of  ingratitude  as  well  as  sorrow, — the  "  Pere  Michel 
Delannois,  soi  disant  cure  de  St.  Blois."  My  poor  friend 
and  protector  was  there  among  the  doomed  !  If  up  to  that 
moment  I  had  made  no  effort  to  see  him,  I  must  own  the 
reason  lay  in  my  own  selfish  feeling  of  shame,  the  dread  that 
he  should  mark  the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  me,  —  a 


THE  RESTAURANT  "AU  SCl:L:feRAT."  35 

change  that  I  felt  extended  to  all  about  me,  and  showed 
itself  in  my  manner  as  it  influenced  my  every  action.  It 
was  not  alone  that  I  lost  the  obedient  air  and  quiet  sub- 
missiveness  of  the  child,  but  I  had  assumed  the  very  ex- 
travagance of  that  democratic  insolence  which  was  the  mode 
among  the  leading  characters  of  the  time. 

How  should  I  present  myself  before  him,  the  very  imper- 
sonation of  all  the  vices  against  which  he  used  to  warn  me  ? 
How  exhibit  the  utter  failure  of  all  his  teachings  and  his 
hopes  ?  What  would  this  be  but  to  embitter  his  reflections 
needlessly?  Such  were  the  specious  reasons  with  which  I 
fed  my  self-love,  and  satisfied  my  conscience ;  but  now,  as 
I  read  his  name  in  that  terrible  catalogue,  their  plausibility 
sei-ved  me  no  longer,  and  at  last  I  forgot  myself  to  remember 
only  him. 

''I  will  see  him  at  once,"  thought  I,  "whatever  it  may 
cost  me.  I  will  stay  beside  him  for  his  last  few  hom's  of 
life;  and  when  he  carries  with  him  from  this  world  many 
an  evil  memory  of  shame  and  treachery,  ingratitude  from  me 
shall  not  increase  the  biu'den." 

And  with  this  resolve  I  turned  my  steps  homeward. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE     "TEMPLE. 


At  the  time  of  which  I  write,  there  was  but  one  motive 
principle  throughout  France,  —  "Terror."  By  the  agency 
of  terror  and  the  threat  of  denunciation  was  everything 
carried  on,  not  only  in  the  public  departments  of  the  State, 
but  in  all  the  common  occurrences  of  every-day  life. 
Fathers  used  it  towards  their  children,  children  towards 
then-  parents ;  mothers  coerced  theii'  daughters,  daughters 
in  turn  braved  the  authority  of  theii*  mothers.  The  tri- 
bunal of  public  opinion,  open  to  all,  scattered  its  decrees 
with  a  reckless  cruelty,  —  denying  to-day  what  it  had  decreed 
but  yesterday,  and  at  last  obliterating  every  trace  of  "  right  " 
or  "  principle"  in  a  people  who  now  only  lived  for  the  pass- 
ing hour,  and  who  had  no  faith  in  the  future,  even  of  this 
world. 

Among  the  very  children  at  play,  this  horrible  doctrine 
had  gained  a  footing :  the  tyrant  urchin,  whose  ingenuity 
enabled  him  to  terrorize,  became  the  master  of  his  play- 
fellows. I  was  not  slow  in  acquiring  the  popular  education 
of  the  period,  and  soon  learned  that  fear  was  a  "Bank"  on 
which  one  might  draw  at  will.  Already  the  domineering 
habit  had  given  to  my  air  and  manner  all  the  insolence  of 
seeming  power,  and  while  a  mere  boy  in  years,  I  was  a  man 
in  all  the  easy  assumption  of  a  certain  importance. 

It  was  with  a  bold  and  resolute  air  I  entered  the  restau- 
rant, and  calling  Boivin  aside,  said,  — 

"  I  have  business  in  the  Temple  this  morning,  Boivin ;  see 
to  it  that  I  shall  not  be  denied  admittance." 

"I  am  not  governor  of  the  jail,"  grunted  Boivin,  sulkily, 
"  nor  have  I  the  privilege  to  pass  any  one." 


THE  "TEMPLE."  37 

"  But  your  boys  have  the  entree;  the  '  rats '  [so  were  they 
called]  are  free  to  pass  iu  and  out." 

"  Ay,  and  I'm  responsible  for  the  young  rascals,  too,  and 
for  anything  that  may  be  laid  to  their  charge." 

"  And  you  shall  extend  this  same  protection  to  me,  Master 
Boivin,  for  one  day,  at  least.  Nay,  my  good  friend,  there 's 
no  use  in  sulking  about  it.  A  certain  friend  of  ours,  whose 
name  I  need  not  speak  aloud,  is  little  in  the  habit  of  being 
denied  anything :  are  you  prepared  for  the  consequence  of 
disobeying  his  orders  ?  " 

"  Let  me  see  that  they  are  his  orders,"  said  he,  stuixlily ; 
"  who  tells  me  that  such  is  his  will?  " 

"I  do,"  was  my  brief  reply,  as,  with  a  look  of  consum- 
mate effrontery,  I  drew  myself  up  and  stared  him  insolently 
in  the  face. 

''Suppose,  then,  that  I  have  my  doubts  on  the  matter; 
suppose  —  " 

"I  will  suppose  all  you  wish,  Boivin,"  said  I,  interrupt- 
ing, "  and  even  something  more;  for  I  will  suppose  myself 
returning  to  the  quarter  whence  I  have  just  come,  and  within 
one  houi'  —  ay,  within  one  hour,  Boivin  —  bringing  back  with 
me  a  written  order,  not  to  pass  me  into  the  Temple,  but  to 
receive  the  body  of  the  Citizen  Jean  Baptiste  Boivin,  and 
be  accountable  for  the  same  to  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety." 

He  trembled  from  head  to  foot  as  I  said  these  words,  and 
in  his  shaking  cheeks  and  fallen  jaw  I  saw  that  my  spell  was 
working. 

"And  now  I  ask  for  the  last  time,  do  you  consent  or 
not?" 

"How  is  it  to  be  done?"  cried  he,  in  a  voice  of  down- 
right wretchedness.  "  You  are  not  '  inscribed'  at  the  secre- 
taries' office  as  one  of  the  '  rats.'" 

"I  should  hope  not,"  said  I,  cutting  him  short;  "but  I 
may  take  the  place  of  one  for  an  hour  or  so.  Tristan  is 
about  my  own  size  ;  his  blouse  and  badge  will  just  suit  me." 

"  Ay,  leave  me  to  a  fine  of  a  thousand  francs  if  you  should 
be  found  out,"  muttered  Boivin,  "not  to  speak  of  a  worse 
mayhap." 

"Exactly  so,  —  far  worse  in  case  of  your  refusing;  but 


38  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

there  sounds  the  bell  for  mustering  the  prisoners  —  it  is  now 
too  late." 

"Not  so,  not  so!  "  cried  Boivin,  eagerty,  as  he  saw  me 
prepared  to  leave  the  house.  "You  shall  go  in  Tristan's 
place.  Send  him  here,  that  he  may  tell  you  everything  about 
the  '  service,'  and  give  you  his  blouse  and  badge." 

I  was  not  slow  in  availing  myself  of  the  permission,  nor 
was  Tristan  sorry  to  find  a  substitute.  He  was  a  dull, 
depressed-looking  boy,  not  over  communicative  as  to  his 
functions,  merely  telling  me  that  I  was  to  follow  the  others, 
that  I  came  fourth  in  the  line,  to  answer  when  my  name 
was  called  "  Tristan,"  and  to  put  the  money  I  received  in  my 
leathern  pocket,  without  uttering  a  word,  lest  the  jailers 
should  notice  it. 

To  accoutre  myself  in  the  white  cotton  nightcap  and  the 
blouse  of  the  craft  was  the  work  of  a  few  seconds ;  and 
then,  with  a  great  knife  in  my  girdle  and  a  capacious  pocket 
slung  at  my  side,  I  looked  every  inch  a  "  Marmiton." 

In  the  kitchen  the  bustle  had  already  begun,  and  half-a- 
dozen  cooks,  with  as  many  under-cooks,  were  dealing  out 
' '  portions  "  with  all  the  speed  of  a  well-practised  perfor- 
mance. Nothing  short  of  great  habit  could  have  prevented 
the  confusion  degenerating  into  downright  anarchy.  The 
"service"  was,  indeed,  effected  with  a  wonderful  rapidity; 
and  certain  phrases,  uttered  with  speed,  showed  how  it 
progressed.  "  Maigre  des  cures,"  —  "  finished."  "  Bouillon 
for  the  'expectants,'"  —  "ready  here."  "Canards  aux 
olives  des  condamnees,"  —  "all  sei-ved."  "Red  partridges 
for  the  reprieved  at  the  upper  table,"  —  ' '  despatched."  Such 
were  the  quick  demands  and  no  less  quick  replies  that  rung 
out  amidst  the  crash  of  plates,  knives,  and  glasses  and  the 
incessant  movement  of  feet,  until  at  last  we  were  all  mar- 
shalled jn  a  long  line,  and,  preceded  by  a  drum,  set  out  for 
the  prison. 

As  we  drew  near,  the  heavy  gates  opened  to  receive,  and 
closed  behind  us  with  a  loud  bang  that  I  could  not  help 
feeling  must  have  smote  heavily  on  many  a  heart  that  had 
passed  there.  We  were  now  in  a  large  courtyard,  where 
several  doors  led  off,  each  guarded  by  a  sentinel,  whose 
ragged  clothes  and  rusty  accoutrements  proclaimed  a  true 


THE  "TEMPLE."  39 

soldier  of  the  Republic.  One  of  the  large  hurdles  used  for 
carrying  the  prisoners  to  the  Place  stood  in  one  corner,  and 
two  or  three  workmen  were  busied  in  repaiilng  it  for  the 
coming  occasion. 

So  much  I  had  time  to  observe,  as  we  passed  along ;  and 
now  we  entered  a  dimly-lighted  corridor  of  great  extent ; 
passing  down  which,  we  emerged  into  a  second  "  Cour," 
traversed  by  a  species  of  canal  or  river,  over  which  a  bridge 
led.  In  the  middle  of  this  was  a  strongly-barred  ii'on  gate, 
guarded  by  two  sentries.  As  we  arrived  here,  our  names 
were  called  aloud  by  a  species  of  turnkey ;  and  at  the  call 
"Tristan,"!  advanced,  and  removing  the  covers  from  the 
different  dishes,  submitted  them  for  inspection  to  an  old, 
savage-looking  fellow,  who  with  a  long  steel  fork  pricked 
the  pieces  of  meat,  as  though  anything  could  have  been  con- 
cealed within  them.  Meanwhile,  another  fellow  examined 
my  cotton  cap  and  pocket,  and  passed  his  hands  along  my 
arms  and  body.  The  whole  did  not  last  more  than  a  few 
minutes,  and  the  word  "forward"  was  given  to  pass  on. 
The  gloom  of  the  place;  the  silence,  only  broken  by  the 
heavy  bang  of  an  iron-barred  door  or  the  clank  of  chains ; 
the  sad  thoughts  of  the  many  who  trod  these  corridors  on 
their  way  to  death,  —  depressed  me  greatly,  and  equally 
unprepared  me  for  what  was  to  come ;  for  as  we  drew  near 
the  great  hall,  the  busy  hum  of  voices,  the  sound  of  laughter, 
and  the  noises  of  a  large  assembly  in  full  converse  suddenly 
burst  upon  the  ear ;  and  as  the  wide  doors  were  thrown  open, 
I  beheld  above  a  hundred  people,  who,  either  gathered  in 
single  groups  or  walking  up  and  down  in  parties,  seemed  all 
in  the  fullest  enjoyment  of  social  intercourse. 

A  great  table,  with  here  and  there  a  large  flagon  of  water 
or  a  huge  loaf  of  the  coarse  bread  used  by  the  peasantry, 
ran  from  end  to  end  of  the  chamber.  A  few  had  already 
taken  their  places  at  this,  but  some  were  satisfied  with  laying 
a  cap  or  a  kerchief  on  the  bench  opposite  their  accustomed 
seat ;  while  others  again  had  retired  into  windows  and  cor- 
ners, as  if  to  escape  the  general  gaze,  and  partake  of  their 
humble  meal  in  solitude. 

Whatever  restrictions  prison  discipline  might  have  exer- 
cised elsewhere,  here  the  widest  liberty  seemed  to  prevail. 


40  MAURICE  TIEENAY. 

The  talk  was  loud,  and  even  boisterous ;  the  manner  to  the 
turnkeys  exhibited  nothing  of  fear;  the  whole  assemblage 
presented  rather  the  aspect  of  a  gathering  of  riotous  Repub- 
licans than  of  a  band  of  prisoners  under  sentence.  And  yet 
such  were  the  greater  number ;  and  the  terrible  slip  of  paper 
attached  to  the  back  of  each,  with  a  date,  told  the  day  on 
which  he  was  to  die. 

As  I  lingered  to  gaze  on  this  strange  gathering,  I  was 
admonished  to  move  on,  and  now  perceived  that  my  com- 
panion had  advanced  to  the  end  of  the  hall,  by  which  a 
small  flight  of  stone  steps  led  out  upon  a  terrace,  at  the  end 
of  which  we  entered  another  and  not  less  spacious  chamber, 
equally  crowded  and  noisy.  Here  the  company  were  of  both 
sexes,  and  of  every  grade  and  condition  of  rank,  —  from  the 
highest  noble  of  the  once  court,  to  the  humblest  peasant  of 
La  Vende'e.  If  the  sounds  of  mirth  and  levity  were  less  fre- 
quent, the  buzz  of  conversation  was,  to  the  full,  as  loud  as 
in  the  lower  hall,  where  from  difference  of  condition  in  life 
the  scenes  passing  presented  stranger  and  more  curious  con- 
trasts. In  one  corner  a  group  of  peasants  were  gathered 
around  a  white-haired  priest,  who  in  a  low  but  earnest  voice 
was  uttering  his  last  exhortation  to  them ;  in  another,  some 
young  and  fashionably-dressed  men  were  exhibiting  to  a 
party  of  ladies  the  very  airs  and  graces  by  which  they  would 
have  adorned  a  saloon ;  here  was  a  party  at  piquet ;  there, 
a  little  group  arranging,  for  the  last  time,  their  household 
cares,  and  settling,  with  a  few  small  coins,  the  account  of 
mutual  expenditm-e.  Of  the  ladies,  several  were  engaged  at 
needle-work,  —  some  little  preparation  for  the  morrow,  the 
last  demand  that  ever  vanity  was  to  make  of  them ! 

Although  there  was  matter  of  curiosity  in  all  around  me, 
my  eyes  sought  for  but  one  object,  —  the  cure  of  St.  Blois. 
Twice  or  thrice,  from  the  similarity  of  dress,  I  was  deceived ; 
and  at  last,  when  I  really  did  behold  him,  as  he  sat  alone  in 
a  window,  reading,  I  could  scarcely  satisfy  myself  of  the 
reality.  He  was  lividly  pale,  his  eyes  deep  sunk,  and  sur- 
rounded with  two  dark  cncles,  while  along  his  worn  cheek 
the  tears  had  marked  two  channels  of  purple  color.  What 
need  of  the  guillotine  there,  —  the  lamp  of  life  was  in  its  last 
flicker  without  it. 


THE   "TEMPLE."  41 

Our  names  were  called,  and  the  meats  placed  upon  the 
table.  Just  as  the  head  turnkey  was  about  to  give  the  order 
to  be  seated,  a  loud  commotion,  and  a  terrible  uproar  in  the 
court  beneath,  drew  every  one  to  the  window.  It  was  a 
hurdle,  which,  emerging  from  an  archway,  broke  down  from 
over  crowding ;  and  noAV  the  confusion  of  prisoners,  jailers, 
and  sentries,  with  plunging  horses  and  screaming  sufferers, 
made  a  scene  of  the  wildest  uproar.  Chained  two  by  two, 
the  prisoners  were  almost  helpless,  and  in  their  efforts  to 
escape  injury  made  the  most  terrific  struggle.  Such  were 
the  instincts  of  life  in  those  on  the  very  road  to  death ! 

Resolving  to  profit  by  the  moment  of  confusion,  I  hastened 
to  the  window,  where  alone,  unmoved  by  the  general  com- 
motion, sat  the  Pere  Michel.  He  lifted  his  glassy  eyes  as  I 
came  near,  and  in  a  low,  mild  voice  said,  — 

"Thanks,  my  good  boy,  but  I  have  no  money  to  pay 
thee  ;  nor  does  it  matter  much  now,  —  it  is  but  another  day." 

I  could  have  cried  as  I  heard  these  sad  words  ;  but  master- 
ing emotions  which  would  have  lost  time  so  precious,  I  drew 
close,  and  whispered,  — 

"  Pere  Michel,  it  is  I,  your  own  Maurice." 

He  started,  and  a  deep  flush  suffused  his  cheek ;  and  then 
stretching  out  his  hand,  he  pushed  back  my  cap,  and  parted 
the  hail'  of  my  forehead,  as  if  doubting  the  reality  of  what 
he  saw ;  when  with  a  weak  voice  he  said,  — 

"  No,  no  !  thou  art  not  my  own  Maurice.  His  eyes  shone 
not  with  that  worldly  lustre  thine  do ;  his  brow  was  calm, 
and  fan*  as  children's  should  be,  —  thine  is  marked  with  man- 
hood's craft  and  subtlety ;  and  yet  thou  art  like  him." 

A  low  sob  broke  from  me  as  I  listened  to  his  words,  and 
the  tears  gushed  forth,  and  rolled  in  torrents  down  my 
cheeks. 

"Yes,"  cried  he,  clasping  me  in  his  arms,  "thou  art  my 
own  dear  boy !  I  know  thee  now ;  but  how  art  thou  here, 
and  thus  ?  "  and  he  touched  my  blouse  as  he  spoke. 

"I  came  to  see  and  to  save  you,  Pere,"  said  I.  "Nay, 
do  not  try  to  discoui'age  me,  but  rather  give  me  all  your  aid. 
I  saw  her,  —  I  was  with  her  in  her  last  moments  at  the  guil- 
lotine ;  she  gave  me  a  message  for  you,  but  this  you  shall 
never  hear  till  we  are  without  these  walls." 


42  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

''It  cannot  be,  it  cannot  be,"  said  he,  sorrowfully. 

"  It  can  and  shall  be,"  said  I,  resolutely.  "  I  have  merely 
assumed  this  dress  for  the  occasion ;  I  have  friends,  power- 
ful and  willing  to  protect  me.  Let  us  change  robes,  — give 
me  that  soutane,  and  put  on  the  blouse.  When  you  leave 
this,  hasten  to  the  old  garden  of  the  chapel,  and  wait  for 
my  coming ;  I  will  join  j^ou  there  before  night." 

"  It  cannot  be,"  replied  be  again. 

"  Again  I  say,  it  shall  and  must  be.  Na}^,  if  you  still 
refuse,  there  shall  be  two  victims,  for  I  will  tear  off  the  dress 
here  where  I  stand,  and  openly  declare  myself  the  son  of  the 
Royalist  Tiernay." 

Already  the  commotion  in  the  court  beneath  was  begin- 
ning to  subside,  and  even  now  the  turnkeys'  voices  were 
heard  in  the  refectory,  recalling  the  prisoners  to  table,  — • 
another  moment  and  it  would  have  been  too  late.  It  was, 
then,  less  by  persuasion  than  by  actual  force  I  compelled 
him  to  yield,  and,  pulling  off  his  black  serge  gown,  drew 
over  his  shoulders  my  j^ellow  blouse,  and  placed  upon  his 
head  the  white  cap  of  the  "  Marmiton."  The  look  of  shame 
and  sorrow  of  the  poor  cure  would  have  betrayed  him  at  once, 
if  any  had  given  themselves  the  trouble  to  look  at  him. 

"  And  thou,  my  poor  child,"  said  he,  as  he  saw  me  array 
myself  in  his  priestly  dress,  "  what  is  to  be  thy  fate?" 

"  All  will  depend  upon  you,  Pere  Michel,"  said  I,  holding 
him  by  the  arm,  and  trying  to  fix  his  wandering  attention. 
"Once  out  of  the  prison,  write  to  Boivin,  the  restaurateur 
of  the  '  Scelerat,'  and  tell  him  that  an  escaped  convict  has 
scruples  for  the  danger  into  which  he  has  brought  a  poor 
boy,  one  of  his  '  Marmitons,'  and  whom  b}^  a  noxious  drug 
he  has  lulled  into  insensibility,  while,  having  exchanged 
clothes,  he  has  managed  his  escape.  Boivin  will  comprehend 
the  danger  he  himself  runs  by  leaving  me  here.  All  will 
go  well ;  and  now  there 's  not  a  moment  to  lose.  Take  up 
your  basket,  and  follow  the  others." 

"  But  the  falsehood  of  all  this,"  cried  the  Pere. 

"But  your  life,  and  mine,  too,  lost,  if  you  refuse,"  said 
I,  pushing  him  away. 

"  Oh,  Maurice,  how  changed  have  you  become !  "  cried  he, 
sorrowfully. 


THE  "TEMPLE."  43 

' '  You  will  see  a  greater  change  in  me  yet,  as  I  lie  in  the 
sawdust  beneath  the  scaffold,"  said  I,  hastily.     "  Go,  go!  " 

There  was,  indeed,  no  more  time  to  lose.  The  muster  of 
the  prisoners  was  forming  at  one  end  of  the  chamber,  while 
the  "  Marmitons"  were  gathering  up  their  plates  and  dishes, 
previous  to  departure,  at  the  other ;  and  it  was  only  by  the 
decisive  step  of  laying  myself  down  within  the  recesses  of 
the  window,  in  the  attitude  of  one  overcome  by  sleep,  that 
I  could  force  him  to  obey  my  direction.  I  could  feel  his 
presence  as  he  bent  over  me,  and  muttered  something  that 
must  have  been  a  prayer.  I  could  know,  without  seeing, 
that  he  still  lingered  near  me,  but  as  I  never  stirred,  he 
seemed  to  feel  that  my  resolve  was  not  to  be  shaken,  and  at 
last  he  moved  slowly  away. 

At  first  the  noise  and  clamor  sounded  like  the  crash  of 
some  desperate  conflict,  but  by  degrees  this  subsided,  and  I 
could  hear  the  names  called  aloud  and  the  responses  of  the 
prisoners,  as  they  were  "  told  off"  in  parties  from  the  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  prison.  Tender  leave-takings  and  affection- 
ate farewells  from  many  who  never  expected  to  meet  again 
accompanied  these,  and  the  low  sobs  of  anguish  were  min- 
gled with  the  terrible  chaos  of  voices ;  and  at  last  I  heard 
the  name  of  "Michel  Delannois."  I  felt  as  if  my  death- 
summons  was  in  the  words  "Michel  Delannois." 

"That  crazy  priest  can  neither  hear  nor  see,  I  believe," 
said  the  jailer,  savagely.     "  Will  no  one  answer  for  him?" 

"  He  is  asleep  yonder  in  the  window,"  replied  a  voice  from 
the  crowd. 

"Let  him  sleep,  then,"  said  the  turnkey ;  "when  awake 
he  gives  us  no  peace  with  his  prayers  and  exhortations." 

"  He  has  eaten  nothing  for  three  days,"  observed  another; 
"he  is,  perhaps,  overcome  by  weakness  more  than  by  sleep." 

"Be  it  so!  if  he  only  lie  quiet,  I  care  not,"  rejoined  the 
jailer,  and  proceeded  to  the  next  name  on  the  list. 

The  monotonous  roll-call,  the  heat,  the  attitude  in  which 
I  was  lying,  all  conspired  to  make  me  drowsy ;  even  the  very 
press  of  sensations  that  crowded  to  my  brain  lent  then-  aid, 
and  at  last  I  slept  as  soundly  as  ever  I  had  done  in  my  bed 
at  night.  I  was  dreaming  of  the  dark  alleys  in  the  wood  of 
Belleville,  where  so  often  I  had  strolled  of  an  evenins:  with 


44  IVIAURICE  TIEENAY. 

Pere  Michel ;  I  was  fancying  that  we  were  gathering  the 
fresh  violets  beneath  the  old  trees,  when  a  rude  hand  shook 
my  shoulder,  and  I  awoke.  One  of  the  turnkeys  and 
Boivin  stood  over  me,  and  I  saw  at  once  that  my  plan  had 
worked  well. 

"  Is  this  the  fellow?"  said  the  turnkey,  pushing  me  rudely 
with  his  foot. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Boivin,  white  with  fear ;  "  this  is  the  boy ; 
his  name  is  Tristan."  The  latter  words  were  accompanied 
with  a  look  of  great  significance  towards  me. 

' '  What  care  we  how  he  is  called  ?  Let  us  hear  in  what 
manner  he  came  here." 

"I  can  tell  you  little,"  said  I,  staring  and  looking  wildly 
around;  "  I  must  have  been  asleep,  and  dreaming,  too." 

"The  letter,"  whispered  Boivin  to  the  turnkey,  —  "the 
letter  says  that  he  was  made  to  inhale  some  poisonous  drug, 
and  that  while  insensible  —  " 

"Bah!"  said  the  other,  derisivel}^  "this  will  not  gain 
credit  here ;  there  has  been  complicity  in  the  affak.  Master 
Boivin.  The  Commissaii-e  is  not  the  man  to  believe  a  trumped- 
up  tale  of  the  sort ;  besides,  you  are  well  aware  that  you  are 
responsible  for  these  '  rats '  of  yours.  It  is  a  private  arrange- 
ment between  you  and  the  Commissaire,  and  it  is  not  very 
probable  that  he'll  get  himself  into  a  scrape  for  you." 

"  Then  what  are  we  to  do?  "  cried  Boivin,  passionately,  as 
he  wi'ung  his  hands  in  despair. 

"I  know  what  I  should,  in  a  like  case,"  was  the  dry 
repl3\ 

"And  that  is  — " 

''' Laisser  allerf"  was  the  curt  rejoinder.  "  The  young 
rogue  has  passed  for  a  cw?'e  for  the  last  afternoon ;  I  'd  even 
let  him  keep  up  the  disguise  a  little  longer,  and  it  will  be  all 
the  same  by  this  time  to-morrow." 

"You'd  send  me  to  the  guillotine  for  another?"  said  I, 
boldly.  "Thanks  for  the  good  intention,  my  friend;  but 
Boivin  knows  better  than  to  follow  your  counsel.  Hear  me 
one  moment,"  said  I,  addressing  the  latter,  and  drawing 
him  to  one  side :  "  if  you  don't  liberate  me  within  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  I  '11  denounce  you  and  yours  to  the  Commissary. 
I  know  well  enough  what  goes  on  at  the  '  Scelerat.'  —  you 


THE   "TEMPLE."  45 

understand  me  well.  If  a  priest  has  really  made  his  escape 
from  the  prison,  you  are  not  clean-handed  enough  to  meet 
the  accusation ;  see  to  it  then,  Boivin,  that  I  may  be  free  at 
once." 

"•Imp  of  Satan!"  exclaimed  Boivin,  grinding  his  teeth; 
''  I  have  never  enjoyed  ease  or  quietness  since  the  first  hour 
I  saw  you." 

''It  may  cost  a  couple  of  thousand  francs,  Boi\in,"  said 
I,  calmly;  ''but  what  then?  Better  that  than  take  your 
seat  along  with  us  to-morrow  in  the  Charrette  Houge." 

'•  Maybe  he's  right,  after  all,"  muttered  the  turnkey  in  a 
half  whisper;  "  speak  to  the  Commissary." 

''Yes,"  said  I,  affecting  an  air  of  great  innocence  and 
simplicity,  — "  tell  him  that  a  poor  orphan  boy,  without 
friends  or  home,   claims  his  pity." 

^'  Scelerat  mfarae  /"  cried  Boivin,  as  he  shook  his  fist  at 
me,  and  then  followed  the  turnkey  to  the  Commissary's 
apartment. 

In  less  time  than  I  could  have  believed  possible,  Boivin 
returned  with  one  of  the  upper  jailers,  and  told  me,  in  a 
few  dry  words,  that  I  was  free.  "But,  mark  me,"  added 
he,  "we  part  here;  come  what  may,  you  never  shall  plant 
foot  within  my  doors  again." 

"  Agreed,"  said  I,  gayly ;  "the  world  has  other  dupes  as 
easy  to  play  upon,  and  I  was  getting  well  nigh  weary  of  you." 

"  Listen  to  the  scoundrel !  "  muttered  Boivin  ;  "  what  will 
he  say  next  ?  " 

'•Simply  this,"  rejoined  I,  —  "that  as  these  are  not  be- 
coming garments  for  me  to  wear,  for  I  'm  neither  Fere  nor 
Frere,  I  must  have  others  ere  I  quit  this." 

If  the  insolence  of  my  demand  occasioned  some  surprise 
at  first,  a  little  cool  persistence  on  my  part  showed  that 
compliance  would  be  the  better  policy  ;  and  after  conferring 
together  for  a  few  minutes,  during  which  I  heard  the  sound 
of  money,  the  turnkey  retired,  and  came  back  speedily  with 
a  jacket  and  cap  belonging  to  one  of  the  drummers  of  the 
"Republican  Guard,"  —  a  gaudy,  tasteless  affair  enough, 
but  as  a  disguise  nothing  could  have  been  more  perfect. 

"Have  you  not  a  drum  to  give  him?"  said  Boivin,  with 
a  most  malignant  sneer  at  my  equipment. 


46  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"  He  '11  make  a  noise  in  the  world  without  that !  "  muttered 
the  jailer,  half  soliloquizing ;  and  the  words  fell  upon  my 
heart  with  a  strange  significance. 

"  Your  blessing,  Boivin,"  said  I,  "  and  we  part." 

''Lete  —  '' 

"  No,  no  ;  don't  curse  the  boy,"  interposed  the  jailer,  good 
humoredly. 

"Then,  move  off,  youngster;  I've  lost  too  much  time 
with  you  already." 

The  next  moment  I  was  in  the  Place ;  a  light  misty  rain 
was  falling,  and  the  night  was  dark  and  starless ;  the 
"  Scelerat"  was  brilliant  with  lamps  and  candles,  and  crowds 
were  passing  in  and  out,  but  it  was  no  longer  a  home  for 
me ;  so  I  passed  on,  and  continued  my  way  towards  the 
Boulevard. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"the  night  of  the  ninth  thermidor." 

I  had  agreed  with  the  Pere  Michel  to  rendezvous  at  the 
garden  of  the  little  chapel  of  St.  Blois,  and  thitherward  I 
now  turned  my  steps. 

The  success  which  followed  this  my  first  enterprise  in  life 
had  already  worked  a  wondrous  change  in  all  my  feelings. 
Instead  of  looking  up  to  the  poor  cure  for  advice  and  guid- 
ance, I  felt  as  though  our  parts  were  exchanged,  and  that  it 
was  I  who  was  now  the  protector  of  the  other.  The  oft- 
repeated  sneers  at  les  hons  Pretres,  who  were  good  for  noth- 
ing, must  have  had  a  share  in  this  new  estimate  of  my 
friend ;  but  a  certain  self-reliance  just  then  springing  up  in 
my  heart  effectually  completed  the  change. 

The  period  was  essentially  one  of  action  and  not  of  reflec- 
tion. Events  seemed  to  fashion  themselves  at  the  will  of 
him  who  had  daring  and  corn-age  to  confront  them,  and  they 
alone  appeared  weak  and  poor-spirited  who  would  not  stem 
the  tide  of  fortune.  Sentiments  like  these  were  not,  as  may 
be  supposed,  best  calculated  to  elevate  the  worthy  Pere  in 
my  esteem ;  and  I  already  began  to  feel  how  unsuited  was 
such  companionship  for  me,  whose  secret  promptings  whis- 
pered ever,  "  Go  forward." 

The  very  vagueness  of  my  hopes  served  but  to  extend  the 
horizon  of  futurity  before  me,  and  I  fancied  a  thousand 
situations  of  distinction  that  might  yet  be  mine.  Fame  —  or 
its  poor  counterfeit,  notoriety  —  seemed  the  most  enviable  of 
all  possessions.  It  mattered  little  by  what  merits  it  were 
won,  for  in  that  fickle  mood  of  popular  opinion  great  vices 
were  as  highly  prized  as  transcendent  abilities,  and  one  might 
be  as  illustrious  by  crime  as  by  genius.  Such  were  not  the 
teachings  of  the  Pere :  but  they  were  the  lessons  that  Paris 


48  •  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

dinned  into  my  ears  unceasingly.  Reputation,  character, 
was  of  no  avail  in  a  social  condition  where  all  was  change 
and  vacillation.  What  was  idolized  one  day  was  execrated 
the  next.  The  hero  of  yesterday  was  the  object  of  popular 
vengeance  to-day.  The  success  of  the  passing  hour  was 
everything. 

The  streets  were  crowded  as  I  passed  along ;  although  a 
drizzling  rain  was  falling,  groups  and  knots  of  people  were 
gathered  together  at  every  corner,  and  by  their  eager  looks 
and  gestures  showed  that  some  event  of  great  moment  had 
occurred.  I  stopped  to  ask  what  it  meant,  and  learned  that 
Robespierre  had  been  denounced  in  the  Assembly,  and  that 
his  followers  were  hastening,  in  arms,  to  the  Place  de  la 
Greve.  As  yet,  men  spoke  in  whispers  or  broken  phrases. 
Many  were  seen  affectionately  embracing  and  clasping  each 
other's  hands  in  passionate  emotion ;  but  few  dared  to  trust 
themselves  to  words,  for  none  knew  if  the  peril  were  really 
passed,  or  if  the  power  of  the  tyrant  might  not  become 
greater  than  ever.  While  I  yet  listened  to  the  tidings  which, 
in  half  sentences  and  broken  words,  reached  my  ears,  the 
roll  of  drums  beating  the  generale  was  heard,  and  suddenly 
the  head  of  a  column  appeared,  carrying  torches,  and  seated 
upon  ammunition  wagons  and  caissons,  and  chanting  in  wild 
chorus  the  words  of  the  "  Marseillaise."  On  they  came,  a  ter- 
rible host  of  half -naked  wretches,  their  heads  bound  in  hand- 
kerchiefs, and  their  brawny  arms  bare  to  the  shoulders. 

The  artillery  of  the  Municipale  followed,  many  of  the 
magistrates  riding  amongst  them  dressed  in  the  tricolored 
scarfs  of  officers.  As  the  procession  advanced,  the  crowds 
receded,  and  gradually  the  streets  were  left  free  to  the  armed 
force. 

While,  terror-struck,  I  continued  to  gaze  at  the  counte- 
nances over  which  the  lurid  torch-light  cast  a  horrid  glare, 
a  strong  hand  grasped  my  collar,  and  by  a  jerk  swung  me 
up  to  a  seat  on  one  of  the  caissons ;  and  at  the  same  time  a 
deep  voice  said,  "  Come,  youngster,  this  is  more  in  thy  way 
than  mine,"  and  a  black-bearded  sapeur  pushed  a  drum 
before  me,  and  ordered  me  to  beat  the  generale.  Such  was 
the  din  and  uproar  that  my  performance  did  not  belie  my 
uniform,  and  I  beat  away  manfully,  scarcely  sorry,  amid  all 


"THE  NIGHT   OF  THE  NINTH  THERMIDOR."  49 

my  fears,  at  the  elevated  position  from  which  I  now  surveyed 
the  exciting  scene  around  me. 

As  we  passed,  the  shops  were  closed  on  either  side  in 
haste,  and  across  the  windows  of  the  upper  stories  beds  and 
mattresses  were  speedily  drawn,  in  preparation  for  the  state 
of  siege  now  so  imminent.  Lights  flickered  from  room  to 
room,  and  all  betokened  a  degree  of  alarm  and  terror. 
Louder  and  louder  pealed  the  "  Marseillaise,"  as  the  columns 
deployed  into  the  open  Place,  from  which  every  street  and 
lane  now  poured  its  crowds  of  armed  men.  The  line  was 
now  formed  by  the  artillery,  which,  to  the  number  of  sixteen 
pieces,  ranged  from  end  to  end  of  the  square,  — the  dense 
crowd  of  horse  and  foot  forming  behind,  the  mass  dimly 
lighted  by  the  waving  torches  that  here  and  there  marked 
the  presence  of  an  officer.  G-radually  the  sounds  of  the 
"  Marseillaise  "  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  and  soon  a  dreary 
silence  pervaded  that  varied  host,  more  terrible  now,  as  they 
stood  speechless,  than  in  all  the  tumultuous  din  of  the  wildest 
uproar.  Meanwhile,  from  the  streets  which  opened  into  the 
Place  at  the  farthest  end,  the  columns  of  the  National  Guard 
began  to  move  up,  the  leading  files  carrying  torches ;  be- 
hind them  came  ten  pieces  of  artillery,  which,  as  they 
issued,  were  speedil}^  placed  in  battery,  and  flanked  by  the 
heavy  dragoons  of  the  Guard  ;  and  now,  in  breathless  silence, 
the  two  forces  stood  regarding  each  other,  the  cannoniers 
with  lighted  matches  in  their  hands,  the  dragoons  firmly 
clasping  their  sabres,  —  all  but  waiting  for  the  word  to  plunge 
into  the  deadliest  strife.  It  was  a  terrible  moment;  the 
slightest  stir  in  the  ranks,  the  rattling  of  a  horse's  panoply, 
the  clank  of  a  sabre,  fell  upon  the  heart  like  the  toll  of  a 
death-bell.  It  was  then  that  two  or  three  horsemen  were 
seen  to  advance  from  the  troops  of  the  Convention,  and, 
approaching  the  others,  were  speedily  lost  among  their  ranks. 
A  low  and  indistinct  murmur  ran  along  the  lines,  which 
each  moment  grew  louder,  till  at  last  it  burst  forth  into  a  cry 
of  ''Vive  la  Convention!"  Quitting  their  ranks,  the  men 
gathered  around  a  general  of  the  National  Guard,  who 
addressed  them  in  w^ords  of  passionate  eloquence,  but  of 
which  I  was  too  distant  to  hear  anything.  Suddenly  the 
ranks  began  to  thin ;  some  were  seen  to  pile  their  arms,  and 

4 


50  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

move  away  in  silence ;  others  marched  across  the  Place,  and 
took  up  their  position  beside  the  troops  of  the  National 
Guard ;  of  the  cannoniers,  many  threw  down  then-  matches, 
and  extinguished  the  flame  with  their  feet,  while  others 
again,  limbering  up  theii*  guns,  slowly  retued  to  the 
barracks. 

As  for  myself,  too  much  interested  in  the  scene  to  remem- 
ber that  I  was  in  some  sort  an  actor  in  it,  I  sat  upon  the 
caisson,  watching  all  that  went  foi-ward  so  eagerly  that  I 
never  noticed  the  departure  of  my  companions,  nor  perceived 
that  I  was  left  by  myself.  I  know  not  how  much  later  this 
discovery  might  have  been  deferred  to  me  had  not  an  officer 
of  the  Guard  ridden  up  to  where  I  was,  and  said,  "Move 
up,  move  up,  my  lad ;  keep  close  to  the  battery."  He 
pointed  at  the  same  time  with  his  sabre  in  the  direction 
where  a  number  of  guns  and  carriages  were  already 
proceeding. 

Not  a  little  flattered  by  the  order,  I  gathered  up  reins  and 
whip,  and,  thanks  to  the  good  drilling  of  the  beasts,  who 
readily  took  their  proper  places,  soon  found  myself  in  the 
line,  which  now  drew  up  in  the  rear  of  the  artillery  of  the 
Guard,  separated  from  the  front  by  a  great  mass  of  horse 
and  foot.  I  knew  nothing  of  what  went  foi-ward  in  the 
Place ;  from  what  I  gathered,  however,  I  could  learn  that 
the  artillery  was  in  position,  the  matches  burning,  and 
everything  in  readiness  for  a  cannonade.  Thus  we  remained 
for  about  an  hour,  when  the  order  was  given  to  march. 
Little  knew  I  that  in  that  brief  interval  the  whole  fortunes 
of  France  —  ay,  of  humanity  itself  —  had  undergone  a 
mighty  change ;  that  the  teiTible  reign  of  blood,  the  tyranny 
of  RobespieiTe,  had  closed,  and  that  he  who  had  sent  so 
many  to  the  scaffold  now  lay  bleeding  and  mutilated  upon 
the  very  table  where  he  had  signed  the  death-warrants. 

The  day  was  just  beginning  to  dawn  as  we  entered  the 
barracks  of  the  Conciergerie,  and  drew  up  in  a  double  line 
along  its  spacious  square.  The  men  dismounted,  and  stood 
"  at  ease,"  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  staff  of  the  National 
Guard,  which  it  was  said  was  coming ;  and  now  the  thought 
occurred  to  me  of  what  I  should  best  do,  —  whether  make  my 
escape  while  it  was  yet  time,  or  remain  to  see  by  what  acci- 


"THE  NIGHT  OF  THE   NINTH  THERMIDOR."  51 

dent  I  had  come  there.  If  a  sense  of  duty  to  the  Pere  Michel 
urged  me  on  one  side,  the  glimmering  hope  of  some  opening 
to  fortune  swayed  me  on  the  other.  I  tried  to  persuade 
myself  that  my  fate  was  bound  up  with  his,  and  that  he 
should  be  my  guide  thi'ough  the  wild  waste  before  me ;  but 
these  convictions  could  not  stand  against  the  very  scene  in 
which  I  stood.  The  glorious  panoply  of  war,  —  the  har- 
nessed team,  the  helmetted  dragoon,  the  proud  steed  in  all 
the  trappings  of  battle !  How  faint  were  the  pleadings  of 
duty  against  such  arguments !  The  P^re,  too,  designed  me 
for  a  priest.  The  life  of  a  "  seminarist "  in  a  convent  was 
to  be  mine !  I  was  to  wear  the  red  gown  and  the  white  cap 
of  an  ''acolyte;"  to  be  taught  how  to  swing  a  censer,  or 
snuff  the  candles  of  the  high  altar ;  to  be  a  train-bearer  in  a 
procession,  or  carry  a  relic  in  a  glass  case !  The  hoarse 
bray  of  a  trumpet  that  then  rung  through  the  court  routed 
these  ignoble  fancies,  and  as  the  staff  rode  proudly  in,  my 
resolve  was  taken.     I  was  determined  to  be  a  soldier. 

The  day,  I  have  said,  was  just  breaking,  and  the  officers 
wore  their  dark-gray  capotes  over  their  uniforms.  One, 
however,  had  his  coat  partly  open,  and  I  could  see  the  blue 
and  silver  beneath,  which,  tarnished  and  worn  as  it  was,  had 
to  my  eyes  all  the  brilliancy  of  a  splendid  uniform.  He  was 
an  old  man,  and  by  his  position  in  advance  of  the  others 
showed  that  he  was  the  chief  of  the  staff.  This  was  General 
Lacoste,  at  tliat  time  en  mission  from  the  army  of  the  Rhine, 
and  now  sent  by  the  Convention  to  report  upon  the  state 
of  events  among  the  troops.  Slowly  passing  along  the  line, 
the  old  general  halted  before  each  gun,  pointing  out  to  his 
staff  certain  minutiae,  which,  from  his  gestures  and  manner, 
it  was  easy  to  see  were  not  the  subject  of  eulogy.  Many 
of  the  pieces  were  ill  slung  and  badly  balanced  on  the  trucks  ; 
the  wheels  in  some  cases  were  carelessly  put  on,  their 
tires  worn,  and  the  iron  shoeing  defective.  The  harnessing, 
too,  was  patched  and  mended  in  a  slovenly  fashion,  the 
horses  lean  and  out  of  condition,  the  drivers  awkward  and 
inexperienced. 

"This  is  all  bad,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  addressing  the 
officers,  but  in  a  tone  to  be  easily  heard  all  around  him, 
"  and  reflects  but  little  credit  upon  the  state  of  your  disci- 


52  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

pline  in  the  capital.  "We  have  been  now  seventeen  months 
in  the  field  before  the  enemy,  and  not  idle  either ;  and  yet  I 
would  take  shame  to  myself  if  the  worst  battery  in  our  artil- 
lery were  not  better  equipped,  better  horsed,  better  driven, 
and  better  sei-ved  than  any  I  see  here." 

One  who  seemed  a  superior  officer  here  appeared  to  inter- 
pose some  explanation  or  excuse  ;  but  the  general  would  not 
listen  to  him,  and  continued  his  way  along  the  line,  passing 
around  which  he  now  entered  the  space  between  the  guns 
and  the  caissons.  At  last  he  stopped  directly  in  front  of 
where  I  was,  and  fixed  his  dark  and  penetrating  eyes  steadily 
on  me.  Such  was  their  fascination  that  I  could  not  look  from 
him,  but  continued  to  stare  as  fixedly  at  him. 

"Look  here,  for  instance,"  cried  he,  as  he  pointed  to  me 
with  his  sword,  "is  that  gamui  j^onder  like  an  artillery- 
driver  ;  or  is  it  to  a  drummer-boy  you  entrust  the  caisson  of 
an  eight-pounder  gun?  Dismount,  siiTah,  and  come  hither," 
cried  he  to  me,  in  a  voice  that  sounded  like  an  order  for 
instant  execution.  "  This  popinjay  dress  of  j^ours  must  have 
been  the  fancy  of  some  worthy  shopkeeper  of  the  '  Qual 
Lepelletier ; '  it  never  could  belong  to  any  regular  corps. 
Who  are  you?" 

"Maurice  Tiernay,  sir,"  said  I,  bringing  my  hand  to  my 
cap  in  military  salute. 

"  Maurice  Tiernay,"  repeated  he,  slowh\  after  me.  "  And 
have  you  no  more  to  say  for  yourself  than  your  name  ?  " 

"Very  little,  sir,"  said  I,  taking  courage  from  the  diffi- 
culty in  which  I  found  myself. 

"  What  of  your  father,  boy,  — is  he  a  soldier?" 

"He  was,  sir,"  replied  I,  with  firmness. 

"  Then  he  is  dead?     In  what  corps  did  he  serve?  " 

"  In  the  Garde  du  Corps,"  said  I,  proudly. 

The  old  general  gave  a  short  cough,  and  seemed  to  search 
for  his  snuff-box  to  cover  his  confusion ;  the  next  moment, 
however,  he  had  regained  his  self-possession,  and  continued : 
"  And  since  that  event  —  I  mean,  since  3^ou  lost  yowY  father 
■ — what  have  you  been  doing?  How  have  3'ou  supported 
yourself?  " 

"In  various  ways,  sir,"  said  I,  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  to  imply  that  the  answer  might  be  too  tedious  to 


"THE  NIGHT  OF  THE   NINTH  THERMIDOR."  53 

listen  to.  "I  have  studied  to  be  a  priest,  and  I  have sei'ved 
as  a  '  rat '  in  the  Prison  du  Temple." 

"You  have  certainly  tried  the  extremes  of  life,"  said  he, 
laughing;  "and  now  you  wish,  probably  to  hit  the  Juste 
milieu,  by  becoming  a  soldier?" 

"  Even  so,  sir,"  said  I,  easily.  "  It  was  a  mere  accident 
that  mounted  me  upon  this  caisson ;  but  I  am  quite  ready 
to  believe  that  Fortune  intended  me  kindly  when  she  did 
so." 

"  These  gredins  fancy  that  they  are  all  born  to  be 
generals  of  France,"  said  the  old  man,  laughing;  "but, 
after  all,  it  is  a  harmless  delusion,  and  easily  curable  by  a 
campaign  or  two.  Come,  sirrah,  I'll  find  out  a  place  for 
you,  where,  if  you  cannot  serve  the  Republic  better,  you 
will  at  least  do  her  less  injury  than  as  a  driver  in  her  artil- 
lery. Bertholet,  let  him  be  enrolled  in  your  detachment  of 
the  gendarme,  and  give  him  my  address :  I  wish  to  speak  to 
him  to-morrow." 

"At  what  hour,  general?"  said  I,  promptly. 

"  At  eight,  or  half-past,  — after  breakfast,"  replied  he. 

"  It  may  easily  be  before  mine,"  muttered  I  to  myself. 

"What  says  he?"  cried  the  general,  sharply. 

The  aide-de-camp  whispered  a  few  words  in  answer,  at 
which  the  other  smiled,  and  said,  "  Let  him  come  somewhat 
earlier,  —  say  eight  o'clock." 

"You  hear  that,  boy?"  said  the  aide-de-camp,  to  me; 
while  with  a  slight  gesture  he  intimated  that  I  might  retire. 
Then,  as  if  suddenly  remembering  that  he  had  not  given  me 
the  address  of  the  general,  he  took  a  scrap  of  crumpled 
paper  from  his  pocket-book,  and  wrote  a  few  words  hastily 
on  it  with  his  pencil.  "There,"  cried  he,  throwing  it 
towards  me,  "there  is  your  billet  for  this  day,  at  least."  I 
caught  the  scrap  of  paper,  and  after  deciphering  the  words, 
perceived  that  they  were  written  on  the  back  of  an  assignat 
for  forty  sous. 

It  was  a  large  sum  to  one  who  had  not  wherewithal  to 
buy  a  morsel  of  bread ;  and  as  I  looked  at  it  over  and  over, 
I  fancied  there  would  be  no  end  to  the  pleasures  such  wealth 
could  purchase.  I  can  breakfast  on  the  Quai  Voltaire, 
thought  I,  —  ay,  and  sumptuously  too,  with  coffee  and  chest- 


54  MAUEICE  TIEENAY. 

nuts,  and  a  slice  of  melon  and  another  of  cheese,  and  a 
l^etite  goutte  to  finish,  —  for  five  sous.  The  panther,  at  the 
corner  of  the  Pont  Xeuf ,  costs  but  a  sou ;  and  for  three  one 
can  see  the  brown  bear  of  America,  the  hyaena,  and  another 
beast  whose  name  I  forget,  but  whose  image,  as  he  is  repre- 
sented outside,  canning  off  a  man  in  his  teeth,  I  shall  retain 
to  my  last  hour.  Then  there  is  the  panorama  of  Dunku'k  at 
the  Rue  Chopart,  with  the  Duke  of  York  begging  his  life 
from  a  terrible-looking  soldier  in  a  red  cap  and  a  tri-colored 
scarf.  After  that,  there 's  the  jDarade  at  the  Carrousel ;  and 
mayhaps  something  more  solemn  still  at  the  Greve.  But 
there  was  no  limit  to  the  throng  of  enjoyments  which  came 
rushing  to  my  imagination,  and  it  was  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy 
of  delight  I  set  forth  on  my  voyage  of  pleasure. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    CHOICE    OF    A    LIFE. 

In  looking  back,  after  a  long  lapse  of  years,  I  cannot  refrain 
from  a  feeling  of  astonishment  to  think  how  little  remem- 
brance I  possess  of  the  occurrences  of  that  day,  one  of  the 
most  memorable  that  ever  dawned  for  France,  —  the  event- 
ful 29th  of  July,  that  closed  the  reign  of  terror  by- the  death 
of  the  tyrant !  It  is  true  that  all  Paris  was  astir  at  daybreak  ; 
that  a  sense  of  national  vengeance  seemed  to  pervade  the 
vast  masses  that  filled  the  streets,  which  now  were  scenes 
of  the  most  exciting  emotion.  I  can  only  account  for  the 
strange  indifference  that  I  felt  about  these  stirring  themes 
by  the  frequency  with  which  similar,  or  what  to  me  at 
least  appeared  similar,  scenes  had  already  passed  before  my 
eyes. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  phases  of  the  Revolution  was 
the  change  it  produced  in  all  the  social  relations  by  substi- 
tuting an  assumed  nationality  for  the  closer  and  dearer  ties 
of  kindred  and  affection.  France  was  everything,  the  family 
nothing ;  every  generous  wish,  every  proud  thought,  every 
high  ambition  or  noble  endeavor,  belonged  to  the  country. 
In  this  way,  whatever  patriotism  may  have  gained,  cer- 
tainly all  the  home  affections  were  utterly  wrecked;  the 
humble  and  unobtrusive  virtues  of  domestic  life  seemed  mean 
and  insignificant  beside  the  grand  displays  of  patriotic 
devotion  which  each  day  exhibited. 

Hence  grew  the  taste  for  that  "life  of  the  streets,"  then 
so  popular ;  everything  should  be  en  evidence.  All  the 
emotions  which  delicacy  would  render  sacred  to  the  seclusion 
of  home  were  now  to  be  paraded  to  the  noon-day.  Fathers 
were  reconciled  to  rebellious  children  before  the  eyes  of 
multitudes  ;  wives  received  forgiveness  from  their  husbands 


56  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

in  the  midst  of  approving  crowds ;  leave-takings  the  most 
affecting,  partings  for  those  never  to  meet  again,  the  last 
utterings  of  the  death-bed,  the  faint  whispers  of  expu-ing 
affection,  the  imprecations  of  undying  hate,  —  all,  all  were 
exhibited  in  public,  and  the  gaze  of  the  low,  the  vulgar,  and 
the  debauched  associated  with  the  most  agonizing  gi-iefs 
that  ever  the  heart  endured.  The  scenes,  which  now  are 
shrouded  in  all  the  secrecy  of  domestic  privacy,  were  then 
the  daily  life  of  Paris  ;  and  to  this  cause  alone  can  I  attribute 
the  hardened  indifference  with  which  events  the  most  terrible 
and  heart-rending  were  witnessed.  Bred  up  amidst  such 
examples,  I  saw  little  matter  for  emotion  in  scenes  of  har- 
rowing interest.  An  air  of  mockery  was  on  everything,  and 
a  bastard  classicality  destroyed  every  semblance  of  truth  in 
whatever  would  have  been  touching  and  affecting. 

The  commotion  of  Paris  on  that  memorable  morning  was, 
then,  to  my  thinking,  little  more  than  usual.  If  the  crowds 
who  pressed  theii'  way  to  the  Place  de  la  Revolution  were 
greater,  if  the  cries  of  vengeance  were  in  louder  utterance, 
if  the  imprecations  were  deeper  and  more  terrible,  —  the 
ready  answer  that  satisfied  all  curiosity  was,  it  was  Robes- 
pierre who  was  on  his  way  to  be  executed.  Little  knew  I 
what  hung  upon  that  life,  and  how  the  fate  of  millions 
depended  upon  the  blood  that  morning  was  to  shed  I  Too 
full  of  m^^self  and  my  own  projects,  I  disengaged  myself 
from  the  crowds  that  pressed  eagerly  towards  the  Tuileries, 
and  took  my  way  by  less-frequented  streets  in  the  direction 
of  the  Boulevard  Mont  Parnasse. 

I  wished,  if  possible,  to  see  the  Pere  once  more,  to  take  a 
last  farewell  of  him,  and  ask  his  blessing,  too ;  for  still  a 
lingering  faith  in  the  lessons  he  had  taught  me  continued  to 
haunt  my  mind  amidst  all  the  evil  influences  with  which  my 
wayw3,rd  life  surrounded  me.  The  farther  I  went  from  the 
quarter  of  the  Tuileries,  the  more  deserted  and  solitary  grew 
the  streets.  Not  a  carriage  or  horseman  was  to  be  seen, 
scarcely  a  foot-passenger.  All  Paris  had,  apparently,  as- 
sembled on  the  Place  de  la  Revolution  ;  and  the  very  beggars 
had  quitted  their  accustomed  haunts  to  repair  thither. 
Even  the  distant  hum  of  the  vast  multitude  faded  away,  and 
it  was  only  as  the  wind  bore  them  that  I  could  catch  the 


THE   CHOICE   OF  A  LIEE.  57 

sounds  of  the  hoarse  cries  that  bespoke  a  people's  ven- 
geance ;  and  now  I  found  myself  in  the  little  silent  street 
which  once  had  been  my  home.  I  stood  opposite  the  house 
where  we  used  to  live,  afraid  to  enter  it  lest  I  might  com- 
promise the  safety  of  her  I  wished  to  save ;  and  yet  longing 
once  more  to  see  the  little  chamber  where  we  once  sat 
together,  —  the  chimney-corner  where,  in  the  dark  nights  of 
winter,  I  nestled,  with  my  hymn-book,  and  tried  to  learn  the 
rhymes  that  every  plash  of  the  falling  hail  against  the  win- 
dows routed,  —  to  lie  down  once  more  in  the  little  bed  where 
so  often  I  had  passed  whole  nights  of  happy  imaginings, 
bright  thoughts  of  a  peaceful  future  that  were  never  to  be 
realized ! 

Half  choking  with  my  emotion,  I  passed  on,  and  soon  saw 
the  green  fields  and  the  windmill-covered  hill  of  Montmartre 
rising  above  the  embankment  of  the  Boulevards ;  and  now 
the  ivy-clothed  wall  of  the  garden,  within  which  stood  the 
Chapel  of  St.  Blois.  The  gate  lay  ajar  as  of  old,  and,  push- 
ing it  open,  I  entered.  Everything  was  exactly  as  I  had  left 
it,  —  the  same  desolation  and  desertion  everywhere,  —  so 
much  so,  that  I  almost  fancied  no  human  foot  had  crossed 
its  dreary  precincts  since  last  I  was  there.  On  drawing  nigh 
to  the  chapel,  I  found  the  door  fast  barred  and  barricaded  as 
before ;  but  a  window  lay  open,  and  on  examining  it  closer 
I  discovered  the  marks  of  a  recent  foot-track  on  the  ground 
and  the  window-sill.  Could  the  P^re  Michel  have  been 
there,  was  the  question  that  at  once  occurred  to  my  mind. 
Had  the  poor  priest  come  to  take  a  last  look  and  a  farewell 
of  a  spot  so  dear  to  him  ?  It  could  scarcely  have  been  any 
other.  There  was  nothing  to  tempt  cupidity  in  that  humble 
little  church ;  an  image  of  the  Vii'gin  and  Child  in  wax  was 
the  only  ornament  of  the  altar.  No,  no !  pillage  had  never 
been  the  motive  of  him  who  entered  here. 

Thus  reasoning,  I  climbed  up  to  the  window  and  entered 
the  chapel.  As  my  footsteps  echoed  through  the  silent 
building  I  felt  that  sense  of  awe  and  reverence  so  inseparably 
connected  with  a  place  of  worship,  and  which  is  ever  more 
impressive  still  as  we  stand  in  it  alone.  The  present,  how- 
ever, was  less  before  me  than  the  past,  of  which  everything 
reminded  me.     There  was  the  seat  the  Marquise  used  to  sit 


58  MAURICE  TIERXAY. 

ill ;  there  the  footstool  I  had  so  often  placed  at  her  feet. 
How  different  was  the  last  service  I  had  rendered  her! 
There  the  pillar  beside  which  I  have  stood  spell-bound, 
gazing  at  that  fair  face  whose  beauty  arrested  the  thoughts 
that  should  have  wended  heavenward,  and  made  my  muttered 
prayers  like  offerings  to  herself.  The  very  bouquet  of 
flowers  some  pious  hand  had  placed  beneath  the  shrine, 
withered  and  faded,  was  there  still.  But  where  were  they 
whose  beating  hearts  had  throbbed  with  deep  devotion? 
How  many  had  died  upon  the  scaffold !  how  many  were  still 
lingering  in  imprisonment,  some  in  exile,  some  in  conceal- 
ment, dragging  out  lives  of  misery  and  anxiety !  What  was 
the  sustaining  spirit  of  such  martyrdom,  I  asked  myself 
again  and  again.  Was  it  the  zeal  of  true  religion,  or  was  it 
the  energy  of  loyalty  that  bore  them  up  against  every  danger, 
and  enabled  them  to  brave  death  itself  with  firmness  ?  And 
if  this  faith  of  theirs  was  thus  ennobling,  why  could  not 
France  be  of  one  mind  and  heart?  There  came  no  answer 
to  these  doubts  of  mine,  and  I  slowly  advanced  towards  the 
altar,  still  deeply  buried  in  thought.  What  was  my  surprise 
to  see  that  two  candles  stood  there,  which  bore  signs  of  hav- 
ing been  recently  lighted.  At  once  the  whole  truth  flashed 
across  me,  —  the  Pere  had  been  there ;  he  had  come  to  cele- 
brate amass,  —  the  last,  perhaps,  he  was  ever  to  offer  up  at 
that  altar.  I  knew  with  what  warm  affection  he  loved  every 
object  and  every  spot  endeared  to  him  by  long  time,  and  I 
fancied  to  myself  the  overflowing  of  his  heart  as  he  entered 
once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  the  little  temple  associated 
with  all  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  his  existence.  Doubtless, 
too,  he  had  waited  anxiously  for  my  coming ;  mayhap,  in  the 
prayers  he  offered  I  was  not  forgotten.  I  thought  of  him 
kneeling  there  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  alone  as  he  was, 
his  gentle  voice  the  only  sound  in  the  stillness  of  the  hour ; 
his  pure  heart  throbbing  with  gratitude  for  his  deliverance, 
and  prayerful  hopes  for  those  who  had  been  his  persecutors. 
I  thought  over  all  this,  and  in  a  torrent  of  emotions  I  knelt 
down  before  the  altar  to  pray.  I  know  not  what  words  I 
uttered,  but  his  name  must  somehow  have  escaped  my  lips ; 
for  suddenly  a  door  opened  beside  the  altar,  and  the  Pere 
Michel,  dressed  in  his  full  vestments,  stood  before  me.     His 


THE  CHOICE  OF  A  LIFE.  59 

features,  wan  and  wasted  as  they  were,  had  regained  their 
wonted  expression  of  calm  dignity ;  and  by  his  look  I  saw 
that  he  would  not  suffer  the  sacred  spot  to  be  profaned  by 
any  outburst  of  feeling  on  either  side. 

"  Those  dreadful  shouts  tell  of  another  massacre,"  said  he, 
solemnly,  as  the  wind  bore  towards  us  the  deafening  cries  of 
the  angry  multitude.  "  Let  us  pray  for  the  soul's  rest  of  the 
departed." 

"  Then  will  your  prayers  be  offered  for  Robespierre,  for 
Couthon,  and  St.  Just,"  said  I,  boldly. 

' '  And  who  are  they  who  need  more  the  saints'  inter- 
cession, who  have  ever  been  called  to  judgment  with  such 
crimes  to  expiate,  who  have  ever  so  widowed  France  and  so 
desecrated  her  altars?  Happily,  a  few  yet  remain  where 
piety  may  kneel  to  implore  pardon  for  then-  iniquity.  Let  us 
recite  the  Litany  for  the  Dead,"  said  he,  solemnly,  and  at 
once  began  the  impressive  service. 

As  I  knelt  beside  the  rails  of  the  altar,  and  heard  the 
prayers  which  with  deep  devotion  he  uttered,  I  could  not 
help  feeling  the  contrast  between  that  touching  evidence  of 
Christian  charity  and  the  tumultuous  joy  of  the  populace, 
whose  frantic  bursts  of  triumph  were  borne  on  the  air. 

,"  And  now  come  with  me,  Maurice,"  said  he,  as  the  mass 
was  concluded.  "Here,  in  this  little  sacristy,  we  are  safe 
from  all  molestation ;  none  will  think  of  us  on  such  a  day 
as  this." 

And  as  he  spoke  he  drew  his  arm  around  me,  and  led  me 
into  the  little  chamber  where  once  the  precious  vessels  and 
the  decorations  of  the  church  were  kept. 

"  Here  we  are  safe,"  said  he,  as  he  drew  me  to  his  side  on 
the  oaken  bench,  which  formed  all  the  furniture  of  the  room. 
"To-morrow,  Maurice,  we  must  leave  this,  and  seek  an 
asylum  in  another  land ;  but  we  are  not  friendless,  my  child, 
—  the  brothers  of  the  '  Sacred  Heart'  will  receive  us.  Their 
convent  is  in  the  wilds  of  the  Ardennes,  beyond  the  frontiers 
of  France,  and  there,  beloved  by  the  faithful  peasantry,  they 
live  in  security  and  peace.  We  need  not  take  the  vows  of 
their  order,  which  is  one  of  the  strictest  of  all  religious 
houses ;  but  we  may  claim  then*  hospitality  and  protection, 
and  neither  will  be  denied  us.     Think  what  a  blessed  exis- 


60  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

teuce  will  that  be,  Maurice,  my  son,  to  dwell  under  the  same 
roof  with  these  holy  men,  and  to  imbibe  from  them  the  peace 
of  mind  that  holiness  alone  bestows ;  to  awake  at  the  solemn 
notes  of  the  pealing  organ,  and  to  sink  to  rest  with  the 
glorious  liturgies  still  chanting  around  you ;  to  feel  an  atmos- 
phere of  devotion  on  every  side,  and  to  see  the  sacred  relics 
whose  mh-acles  have  attested  the  true  faith  in  ages  long  past ! 
Does  it  not  stir  th}^  heart,  my  child,  to  know  that  such 
blessed  privileges  may  be  thine  ?  " 

I  hung  my  head  in  silence,  for  in  truth  I  felt  nothing  of 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  sought  to  inspke  me.  The 
P^re  quickly  saw  what  passed  in  my  mind,  and  endeavored 
to  depict  the  life  of  the  monastery  as  a  delicious  existence, 
embellished  by  all  the  graces  of  literature  and  adorned  by 
the  pleasures  of  intellectual  converse.  Poetrj^,  romance, 
scenery,  all  were  pressed  into  the  service  of  his  persuasions ; 
but  how  weak  were  such  arguments  to  one  like  me,  — the  boy 
whose  only  education  had  been  what  the  streets  of  Paris 
afforded,  whose  notions  of  eloquence  were  formed  on  the 
insane  ravings  of  The  Mountain,  and  whose  idea  of  great- 
ness was  centred  in  mere  notoriety ! 

My  dreamy  look  of  inattention  showed  him  again  that  he 
had  failed ;  and  I  could  see,  in  the  increased  pallor  of  his 
face,  the  quivering  motion  of  his  lip,  the  agitation  the  defeat 
was  costing  him. 

"  Alas  !  alas  !  "  cried  he,  passionately,  "  the  work  of  ruin 
is  perfect ;  the  mind  of  youth  is  corrupted,  and  the  fountain 
of  \ii-tue  defiled  at  the  very  source.  Oh,  Maurice,  I  had 
never  thought  this  possible  of  thee,  the  child  of  my  heart !  " 

A  burst  of  grief  here  overcame  him ;  for  some  minutes  he 
could  not  speak.  At  last  he  arose  from  his  seat,  and  wiping 
off  the  tears  that  covered  his  cheeks  with  his  robe,  spoke,  but 
in  a  voice  whose  full  round  tones  contrasted  strongly  with 
his  former  weak  accents  :  — 

' '  The  life  I  have  pictured  seems  to  thee  ignoble  and  un- 
worthy, boy.  So  did  it  not  appear  to  Chrysostom,  to  Origen, 
and  to  Augustin ;  to  the  blessed  saints  of  our  Church,  the 
eldest-born  of  Christianity.  Be  it  so.  Thine,  mayhap,  is 
not  the  age,  nor  this  the  era,  in  which  to  hope  for  better 
things.     Thy  heart  yearns  for  heroic  actions,  thy  spirit  is 


THE   CHOICE   OF  A  LIFE.  61 

set  upon  high  ambitions ;  be  it  so.  I  say,  never  was  the 
time  more  fitting  for  thee.  The  enemy  is  up  ;  his  armies  are 
in  the  field  ;  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  swell  the  ranks, 
already  flushed  with  victory.  Be  a  soldier,  then.  Ay, 
Maurice,  buckle  on  the  sword,  —  the  battle-field  is  before  thee. 
Thou  hast  made  choice  to  seek  the  enemy  in  the  far-away 
countries  of  heathen  darkness,  or  here  in  our  own  native 
France,  where  his  camp  is  already  spread.  If  danger  be  the 
lure  that  tempts  thee,  if  to  confront  peril  be  thy  wish,  — 
there  is  enough  of  it.  Be  a  soldier,  then,  and  gird  thee  for 
the  great  battle  that  is  at  hand.  Ay,  boy,  if  thou  feelest 
within  thee  the  proud  darings  that  foreshadow  success,  speak 
the  word,  and  thou  shalt  be  a  standard-bearer  in  the  very 
van." 

I  waited  not  for  more ;  but  springing  up,  I  clasped  my 
arms  around  his  neck,  and  cried,  in  ecstasy,  "  Yes,  Pere 
Michel,  you  have  guessed  aright ;  my  heart's  ambition  is  to 
be  a  soldier,  and  I  want  but  your  blessing  to  be  a  brave 
one !  " 

' '  And  thou  shalt  have  it.  A  thousand  blessings  follow 
those  who  go  forth  to  the  good  fight.  But  thou  art  yet 
young,  Maurice,  —  too  young  for  this.  Thou  needest  time, 
and  much  teaching  too.  He  who  would  brave  the  enemy 
before  us  must  be  skilful  as  well  as  courageous.  Thou  art  as 
yet  but  a  child." 

"  The  general  said  he  liked  boy-soldiers,"  said  I,  promptly ; 
"  he  told  me  so  himself." 

"  What  general  —  who  told  thee  ?  "  cried  the  Pere,  in  trem- 
bling eagerness. 

"  General  Lacoste,  the  Chef  d'Etat  major,  of  the  army  of 
the  Rhine ;  the  same  who  gave  me  a  rendezvous  for  to-mor- 
row at  his  quarters." 

It  was  not  till  I  had  repeated  my  explanation  again  and 
again,  nor,  indeed,  until  I  had  recounted  all  the  circum- 
stances of  my  last  night's  adventure,  that  the  poor  Pere 
could  be  brought  to  see  his  way  thi-ough  a  mystery  that  had 
almost  become  equally  embarrassing  to  myself.  When  he 
did,  however,  detect  the  clew,  and  when  he  had  perceived  the 
different  tracks  on  which  our  minds  were  travelling,  his  grief 
burst  all  bounds.     He  inveighed  against  the  armies  of  the 


62  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

Republic  as  hordes  of  pillagers  and  bandits,  the  sworn 
enemies  of  the  Church,  the  desecrators  of  her  altars.  Their 
patriotism  he  called  a  mere  pretence  to  shroud  then-  infidelity  ; 
then-  heroism  was  the  blood-thirstiness  of  democratic  cruelty. 
Seeing  me  still  unmoved  by  all  this  passionate  declamation, 
he  adopted  another  tactic,  and  suddenly  asked  me  if  it  were 
for  such  a  cause  as  this  my  father  had  been  a  soldier? 

''  No  !  "  replied  I,  firmly  ;  "  for  when  my  father  was  alive, 
the  soil  of  France  had  not  been  desecrated  by  the  foot  of  the 
invader.  The  Austrian,  the  Prussian,  the  Englishman,  had 
not  yet  dared  to  dictate  the  laws  under  which  we  were  to 
live." 

He  appeared  thunderstruck  at  my  reply,  revealing,  as  it 
seemed  to  him,  the  extent  of  those  teachings  whose  corrup- 
tions he  trembled  at. 

"  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it,"  cried  he,  bitterly,  as  he  wrung  his 
hands.  "The  seed  of  the  iniquity  is  sown, — the  harvest- 
time  will  not  be  long  in  coming !  And  so,  boy,  thou  hast 
spoken  with  one  of  these  men,  —  these  generals,  as  they  call 
themselves,  of  that  republican  horde?" 

"The  officer  who  commands  the  artillery  of  the  army  of 
the  Rhine  may  write  himself  general  with  little  presumption," 
said  I,  almost  angrily. 

' '  They  who  once  led  our  armies  to  battle  were  the  nobles 
of  France,  —  men  whose  proud  station  was  the  pledge  for 
their  chivalrous  devotion.  But  why  do  I  discuss  the  question 
with  thee?  He  who  deserts  his  faith  may  well  forget  that 
his  birth  was  noble.  Go,  boy,  join  those  with  whom  your 
heart  is  already  linked.  Your  lesson  will  be  an  easy  one,  — 
you  have  nothing  to  unlearn.  The  songs  of  the  Girondins 
are  already  more  grateful  to  your  ear  than  our  sacred  canti- 
cles. Go,  I  say,  since  between  us  henceforth  there  can  be 
no  companionship !  " 

"Will  you  not  bless  me,  Pere,"  said  I,  approaching  him 
in  deep  humility;  "will  you  not  let  me  carry  with  me  thy 
benediction  ?  " 

"  How  shall  I  bless  the  arm  that  is  lifted  to  wound  the 
Holy  Church,  how  shall  I  pray  for  one  whose  place  is  in 
the  ranks  of  the  infidel?  Hadst  thou  faith  in  my  blessing, 
boy,  thou  hadst  never  implored  it  in  such  a  cause.   Renounce 


THE   CHOICE   OF  A  LIFE.  63 

thy  treason,  and  not  alone  my  blessing,  but  thou  shalt  have 
a  'Novena'  to  celebrate  thy  fidelity.  Be  of  us,  Maurice, 
and  thy  name  shall  be  honored  where  honor  is  immortality !  " 

The  look  of  beaming  affection  with  which  he  uttered  this, 
more  than  the  words  themselves,  now  shook  my  courage,  and 
in  a  conflict  of  doubt  and  indecision  I  held  down  my  head 
without  speaking.  What  might  have  been  my  ultimate 
resolve,  if  left  completely  to  myself,  I  know  not ;  but  at  that 
very  moment  a  detachment  of  soldiers  marched  past  in  the 
street  without.  They  were  setting  off  to  join  the  army  of 
the  Rhine,  and  were  singing  in  joyous  chorus  the  celebrated 
song  of  the  day,  Le  chant  du  depart.  The  tramp  of  their 
feet,  the  clank  of  their  weapons,  their  mellow  voices,  but 
more  than  all,  the  associations  that  thronged  to  my  mind, 
routed  every  other  thought,  and  I  darted  from  the  spot,  and 
never  stopped  till  I  reached  the  street. 

A  great  crowd  followed  the  detachment,  composed  partly 
of  friends  of  the  soldiers,  partly  of  the  idle  loungers  of  the 
capital.  Mixing  with  these,  I  moved  onward,  and  speedily 
passed  the  outer  boulevard  and  gained  the  open  country. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"the  army  sixty  years  since." 

I  FOLLOWED  the  soldiers  as  they  marched  beyond  the  outer 
boulevard,  and  gained  the  open  country.  Many  of  the  idlers 
dropped  off  here,  others  accompanied  us  a  little  farther ;  but 
at  length,  when  the  drums  ceased  to  beat,  and  were  slung 
in  marching  order  on  the  backs  of  the  drummers,  when  the 
men  broke  into  the  open  order  that  French  soldiers  instinc- 
tively assume  on  a  march,  the  curiosity  of  the  gazers  appeared 
to  have  nothing  more  to  feed  upon,  and  one  by  one  they 
returned  to  the  capital,  leaving  me  the  only  lingerer. 

To  any  one  accustomed  to  military  display,  there  was  little 
to  attract  notice  in  the  column,  which  consisted  of  detach- 
ments from  various  corps,  horse,  foot,  and  artillery ;  some 
were  returning  to  their  regiments  after  a  furlough ;  some  had 
just  issued  from  the  hospitals,  and  were  seated  in  charettes, 
or  country  cars ;  and  others,  again,  were  peasant  boys  only 
a  few  days  before  drawn  in  the  conscription.  There  was 
every  variety  of  uniform,  and,  I  may  add,  of  raggedness, 
too,  —  a  coarse  blouse  and  a  pair  of  worn  shoes,  with  a  red 
or  blue  handkerchief  on  the  head,  being  the  dress  of  many 
among  them.  The  Republic  was  not  rich  in  those  days,  and 
cared  little  for  the  costume  in  which  her  victories  were  won. 
The  artillery  alone  seemed  to  preserve  anything  like  uni- 
formity in  dress.  They  wore  a  plain  uniform  of  blue,  with 
long  white  gaiters  coming  half  way  up  the  thigh;  a  low 
cocked  hat,  without  feather,  but  with  the  tricolored  cockade 
in  front.  They  were  mostly  men  middle-aged  or  past  the 
prime  of  life,  bronzed,  weather-beaten,  hardy-looking  fellows, 
whose  white  mustaches  contrasted  well  with  then*  sun-burned 
faces.  All  their  weapons  and  equipments  were  of  a  superior 
kind,  and  showed  the  care  bestowed  upon  an  arm  whose  eflEi- 


"THE  AEMY   SIXTY  YEARS  SINCE."  65 

ciency  was  the  first  discovery  of  the  republican  generals. 
The  greater  number  of  these  were  Bretons,  and  several  of 
them  had  served  in  the  fleet,  still  bearing  in  their  looks  and 
carriage  something  of  that  air  which  seems  inherent  in  the 
seaman.  They  were  grave,  serious,  and  almost  stern  in 
manner,  and  very  unlike  the  young  cavahy  soldiers,  who, 
mostly  recruited  from  the  south  of  France,  many  of  them 
Gascons,  had  all  the  high-hearted  gayety  and  reckless  levity 
of  theii"  own  peculiar  laud.  A  campaign  to  these  fellows 
seemed  a  pleasant  excui-sion  ;  they  made  a  jest  of  everything, 
from  the  wan  faces  of  the  invalids  to  the  black  bread  of  the 
Commissary;  they  quizzed  the  new  "  Toui'lerous,"  as  the 
recruits  were  styled,  and  the  old  "  Grumblers,"  as  it  was  the 
fashion  to  call  the  veterans  of  the  army ;  they  passed  thek 
jokes  on  the  Republic,  and  even  their  own  officers  came  in 
for  a  share  of  their  ridicule.  The  grenadiers,  however, were 
those  who  especially  were  made  the  subject  of  theii*  sarcasm. 
They  were  generally  from  the  north  of  France  and  the  fron- 
tier country  towards  Flanders,  whence  they  probably  imbibed 
a  portion  of  that  phlegm  and  moroseness  so  very  unlike  the 
general  gayety  of  French  nature,  and  when  assailed  by  such 
adversaries  were  perfectly  incapable  of  reply  or  retaliation. 

They  all  belonged  to  the  army  of  the  "  Sambre  et  Meuse," 
which,  although  at  the  beginning  of  the  campaign  highly 
distinguished  for  its  successes,  had  been  latterly  eclipsed  by 
the  extraordinary  victories  on  the  Upper  Rhine  and  in  AVest- 
ern  Germany ;  and  it  was  curious  to  hear  with  what  intelli- 
gence and  interest  the  greatest  questions  of  strategy  were 
discussed  by  those  who  carried  theii*  packs  as  common 
soldiers  in  the  ranks.  Movements  and  manoeuvres  were 
criticised,  attacked,  defended,  ridiculed,  and  condemned, 
with  a  degree  of  acuteness  and  knowledge  that  showed  the 
enormous  progress  the  nation  had  made  in  military  science, 
and  with  what  ease  the  Republic  could  recruit  her  officers 
from  the  ranks  of  her  soldiers. 

At  noon  the  column  halted  in  the  wood  of  Belleville ;  and 
while  the  men  were  resting,  an  express  arrived  announcing 
that  a  fresh  body  of  troops  would  soon  arrive,  and  ordering 
the  others  to  delay  their  march  till  they  came  up.  The 
orderly  who   brought   the   tidings   could   only  say   that  he 

6 


66  MAUEICE  TIEKNAY. 

believed  s(»me  hiirried  news  had  come  from  Germany,  for 
before  he  left  Paris  the  rappel  was  beating  in  different 
quarters,  and  the  rumor  ran  that  reinforcements  were  to  set 
out  for  Strasbourg  with  the  utmost  dispatch. 

"And  what  troops  are  coming  to  join  us?"  said  an  old 
artillery  sergeant,  in  evident  disbelief  of  the  tidings. 

' '  Two  batteries  of  artillery  and  the  voltigeurs  of  the 
Fourth,  I  know  for  certain  are  coming,"  said  the  orderly, 
"and  they  spoke  of  a  battalion  of  grenadiers." 

' '  What !  do  these  Germans  need  another  lesson  ?  "  said 
the  canuonier.  "  I  thought  Fleurus  had  taught  them  what 
our  troops  were  made  of." 

"  How  you  talk  of  Fleurus  !  "  interrupted  a  young  hussar  of 
the  south;  "I  have  just  come  from  the  army  of  Italy,  and, 
ma  foil  we  should  never  have  mentioned  such  a  battle  as 
Fleurus  in  a  despatch,  —  campaigning  amongst  dykes  and 
hedges,  fighting  with  a  river  on  one  flank  and  a  fortress  on 
t'other,  parade  manoeuvi'es,  where  at  the  first  check  the 
enemy  retreats,  and  leaves  you  free  for  the  whole  afternoon 
to  write  off  your  successes  to  the  Directory.  Had  you  seen 
our  fellows  scaling  the  Alps,  with  avalanches  of  snow  des- 
cending at  every  fire  of  the  great  guns,  forcing  pass  after 
pass  against  an  enemy  posted  on  every  cliff  and  crag  above 
us,  cutting  our  way  to  victor}^  by  roads  the  hardiest  hunter 
had  seldom  trod,  —  I  call  that  war !  " 

"And  I  call  it  the  skirmish  of  an  outpost!  "  said  the  gruff 
veteran,  as  he  smoked  awa}^  in  thorough  contempt  for  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  other.  ' '  I  have  served  under  Kleber, 
Hoche,  and  Moreau,  and  I  believe  they  are  the  first  generals 
of  France." 

"  There  is  a  name  greater  than  them  all,"  cried  the  hussar, 
with  eagerness. 

"  Let  us  hear  it,  then,  — you  mean  Pichegru,  perhaps,  or 
Masseha?  " 

"  No,  I  mean  Bonaparte  !  "  said  the  hussar,  triumphantly. 

"A  good  officer,  and  one  of  us,"  said  the  artilleryman, 
touching  his  belt  to  intimate  the  arm  of  the  semce  the 
general  belonged  to.  "He  commanded  the  siege  train  at 
Toulon." 

"  He  belongs  to  all,"  said  the  other.     "  He  is  a  dragoon,  a 


"THE  ARMY  SIXTY  YEARS   SINCE."  67 

voltigeur,  an  artillerist,  a  pontonier,  —  what  you  will ;  he 
knows  everything,  as  I  know  my  horse's  saddle  and  cloak-bag." 

Both  parties  now  grew  warm ;  and  as  each  was  not  only 
an  eager  partisan,  but  well  acquainted  with  the  leading 
events  of  the  two  campaigns  they  undertook  to  defend,  the 
dispute  attracted  a  large  circle  of  listeners,  who,  either 
seated  on  the  green  sward  or  lying  at  full  length,  formed  a 
picturesque  group  under  the  shadow  of  the  spreading  oak- 
trees.  Meanwhile,  the  cooking  went  speedily  forward,  and 
the  camp-kettles  smoked  with  a  steam  whose  savory  odor 
was  not  a  little  tantalizing  to  one  who,  like  myself,  felt  that 
he  did  not  belong  to  the  company. 

"What's  thy  mess,  boy?"  said  an  old  grenadier  to  me, 
as  I  sat  at  a  little  distance  off,  and  affecting  —  but  I  fear  very 
ill  —  a  total  indifference  to  what  went  forward. 

"  He  is  asking  to  what  corps  thou  belong'st?  "  said  another, 
seeing  that  the  question  puzzled  me. 

"Unfortunately  I  have  none,"  said  I.  "I  merely  followed 
the  march  for  curiosity." 

"  And  thy  father  and  mother,  child,  — what  will  they  say 
to  thee  on  thy  return  home  ?  " 

"I  have  neither  father,  mother,  nor  home,"  said  I, 
promptly. 

"Just  like  myself,"  said  an  old  red- whiskered  sapeur; 
"or  if  I  ever  had  parents  they  never  had  the  grace  to  own 
me.     Come  over  here,  child,  and  take  share  of  my  dinner." 

"  No,  imrhleul  I  '11  have  him  for  my  comrade,"  cried  the 
young  hussar.  "  I  was  made  a  corporal  yesterday,  and  have 
a  larger  ration.  Sit  here,  my  boy,  and  tell  us  how  thou  art 
called." 

"  Maurice  Tiernay." 

' '  Maurice  will  do ;  few  of  us  care  for  more  than  one 
name,  —  except  in  the  dead  muster  they  like  to  have  it  in 
full.  Help  thyself,  my  lad,  and  here 's  the  wine-flask  beside 
thee." 

"  How  comes  it  thou  hast  this  old  uniform,  boy?  "  said  he, 
pointing  to  my  sleeve. 

"It  was  one  they  gave  me  in  the  Temple,"  said  I.  "I 
was  a  rat  clu  prison  for  some  time." 

"Thunder  of   war!"   exclaimed  the   cannonier,   "I  had 


68  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

rather  stand  a  whole  platoon  fire  than  see  what  thou  must 
have  seen,  child." 

"  And  hast  heart  to  go  back  there,  boy,"  said  the  corporal, 
"  and  live  the  same  life  again?  " 

"  No,  I  '11  never  go  back,"  said  I.     "  I  '11  be  a  soldier." 

"Well  said,  mo7i  hrave!  thou 'It  be  a  hussar,  I  know." 

' '  If  Nature  has  given  thee  a  good  head  and  a  quick  eye, 
my  bo}^,  thou  might  even  do  better;  and  in  time,  perhaps, 
wear  a  coat  like  mine,"  said  the  cannonier. 

^^  Sacre  bleu/"  cried  a  little  fellow,  whose  age  might 
have  been  anything  from  boyhood  to  manhood,  for  while 
small  of  stature,  he  was  shrivelled  and  wrinkled  like 
a  mummy,  —  "why  not  be  satisfied  with  the  coat  he 
wears  ? " 

"  And  be  a  drummer,  like  thee?  "  said  the  cannonier. 

"Just  so,  like  me,  and  like  Massena;  he  was  a  drammer, 
too." 

"No,  no!"  cried  a  dozen  voices  together,  "that's  not 
true." 

"He's'  right;  Massena  was  a  drummer  in  the  Eighth," 
said  the  cannonier ;  "I  remember  him  when  he  was  like  that 
boy  yonder." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  the  little  fellow,  who,  I  now  perceived, 
wore  the  dress  of  a  tcunhour ;  "and  is  it  a  disgrace  to  be 
the  first  to  face  the  enemy?" 

"And  the  first  to  turn  his  back  to  him,  comrade,"  cried 
another. 

"Not  always,  not  always,"  said  the  little  fellow,  regard- 
less of  the  laugh  against  him.  "  Had  it  been  so,  I  had  not 
gained  the  battle  of  Grandrengs  on  the  Sambre." 

"Thou  gain  a  battle !  "  shouted  half-a-dozen,  in  derisive 
laughter. 

"What,  Petit  PieiTe  gained  the  day  at  Grandrengs!" 
said  the  cannonier;  "why,  I  was  there  myself,  and  never 
heard  of  that  till  now." 

"lean  believe  it  well,"  replied  Pierre;  "many  a  man's 
merits  go  unacknowledged,  and  Kleber  got  all  the  credit 
that  belonged  to  Pierre  Canot." 

"  Let  us  hear  about  it,  Pierre,  for  even  thy  \nctory  is  un- 
known by  name  to  us  poor  devils  of  the  army  of  Italy.  How 
call'st  thou  the  place  ?  " 


*'THE   ARMY   SIXTY   YEARS   SINCE."  69 

"  Granclreugs,"  said  Pierre,  proudly.  ''  Its  name  will  live 
as  long,  perhaps,  as  many  of  those  high-sounding  ones 
you  have  favored  us  with.  Mayhap  thou  hast  heard  of 
Cambray  ?  " 

"  Never !  "  said  the  hussar,  shaking  his  head. 

"Nor  of  Mons,  either,  I'll  be  sworn?"  continued 
Pierre. 

"  Quite  true,  I  never  heard  of  it  before." 

''^Voila/"  exclaimed  Pierre,  in  contemptuous  triumph; 
"  and  these  are  the  fellows  that  pretend  to  feel  their 
country's  glory,  and  take  pride  in  her  conquests !  Where 
hast  thou  been,  lad,  not  to  hear  of  places  that  every  child 
syllables  now-a-days  ?  " 

"I  will  tell  you  where  I've  been,"  said  the  hussar, 
haughtily,  and  dropping  at  the  same  time  the  familiar 
"thee"  and  "thou"  of  soldier  intercourse;  "I've  been  at 
Montenotte,  at  Millesimo,  at  Mondove  —  " 

^^  Allons  done  with  your  disputes!"  broke  in  an  old 
grenadier;  "as  if  France  was  not  victorious  whether  the 
enemies  were  English  or  German.  Let  us  hear  how  Pierre 
won  his  battle  at  —  at  —  " 

"  At  Grandrengs,"  said  Pierre.  "  They  call  it  in  the  des- 
patch the  '  action  of  the  Sambre,'  because  Kleber  came  up 
there ;  and  Kleber  being  a  great  man,  and  Pierre  Canot  a 
little  one,  you  understand,  the  glory  attaches  to  the  place 
where  the  bullion  epaulettes  are  found,  —  just  as  the  old 
King  of  Prussia  used  to  say,  '  Le  bon  Dieu  est  toujours  a 
cote  de  gros  bataillons.'  " 

"  I  see  we'll  never  come  to  this  same  victory  of  Grand- 
rengs, with  all  these  turnings  and  twistings,"  muttered  the 
artillery  sergeant. 

"Thou  art  very  near  it  now,  comrade,  if  thou 'It  listen," 
said  Pierre,  as  he  wiped  his  mouth  after  a  long  draught  of 
the  wine-flask.  "I'll  not  weary  the  honorable  company 
with  any  description  of  the  battle  generally,  but  just  confine 
myself  to  that  part  of  it  in  which  I  was  myself  in  action. 
It  is  well  known,  that,  though  we  claimed  the  victory  of 
the  10th  May,  we  did  little  more  than  keep  our  own,  and 
were  obliged  to  cross  the  Sambre,  and  be  satisfied  with  such 
a  position  as  enabled  us  to  hold  the  two  bridges  over  the 


70  MAURICE  TEERNAY. 

river;  and  there  we  remained  for  four  days, — some  said 
preparing  for  a  fresli  attack  upon  Kaunitz,  who  commanded 
the  allies ;  some,  and  I  believe  they  were  right,  alleging  that 
our  generals  were  squabbling  all  day,  and  all  night  too, 
with  two  Commissaries  that  the  Government  had  sent  down 
to  teach  us  how  to  win  battles.  Mafoi!  we  had  had  some 
experience  in  that  way  ourselves,  without  learning  the 
art  from  two  citizens  with  tricolored  scarfs  round  their 
waists  and  yellow  tops  to  their  boots !  However  that 
might  be,  early  on  the  morning  of  the  20th  we  received 
orders  to  cross  the  river  in  two  strong  columns,  and  form 
on  the  opposite  side ;  at  the  same  time  that  a  division 
was  to  pass  the  stream  by  boat  two  miles  higher  up,  and, 
concealing  themselves  in  a  pine  wood,  be  ready  to  take  the 
enemy  in  flank  when  they  believed  that  all  the  force  was  in 
the  front." 

"  Sacre  tonnerre  !  I  believe  that  our  armies  of  the  Sambre 
and  the  Rhine  never  have  any  other  notion  of  battles  than 
that  eternal  flank  movement !  "  cried  a  young  sergeant  of 
the  voltigeurs,  who  had  just  come  up  from  the  army  of 
Italy.  "  Our  general  used  to  split  the  enemy  by  the  centre, 
cut  him  piecemeal  by  attack  in  columns,  and  then  mow  him 
down  with  artillerj^  at  short  range,  not  leaving  him  time  for 
a  retreat  in  heavy  masses  —  " 

"Silence,  silence!  and  let  us  hear  Petit  Pierre,"  shouted 
a  dozen  voices,  who  cared  far  more  for  an  incident  than  a 
scientific  discussion  about  manoeuvres. 

"The  plan  I  speak  of  was  General  Moreau's,"  continued 
Pierre ;  "  and  I  fancy  that  your  Bonaparte  has  something  to 
learn  ere  he  be  his  equal !  " 

This  rebuke  seeming  to  have  engaged  the  suffrages  of  the 
company,  he  went  on:  "The  boat  division  consisted  of 
four  battalions  of  infantry,  two  batteries  of  light  artillery, 
and  a  voltigeur  company  of  the  Regiment  de  Marboeuf,  to 
which  I  was  then,  for  the  time,  attached  as  tamhour  en  chef. 
AVhat  fellows  they  were,  —  the  greatest  devils  in  the  whole 
army !  They  came  from  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine,  and 
were  as  reckless  and  undisciplined  as  when  they  strutted  the 
streets  of  Paris.  When  they  were  thrown  out  to  skirmish, 
they  used  to  play  as  many  tricks  as  school-boys ;  sometimes 


"THE  ARMY  SIXTY  YEARS  SINCE."  71 

they  'd  run  up  to  the  roof  of  a  cabin  or  a  hut  —  and  they 
could  climb  like  cats  —  and,  sitting  down  on  the  chimney, 
begin  firing  away  at  the  enemy  as  coolly  as  if  from  a  battery ; 
sometimes  they  'd  capture  half-a-dozen  asses,  and  ride  for- 
ward as  if  to  charge,  and  then,  affecting  to  tumble  off,  the 
fellows  would  pick  down  any  of  the  enemy's  officers  that 
were  fools  enough  to  come  near,  —  scampering  back  to  the 
cover  of  the  line,  laughing  and  joking  as  if  the  whole  were 
sport.  I  saw  one  when  his  wrist  was  shattered  by  a  shot, 
and  he  could  n't  fire,  take  a  comrade  on  his  back  and  caper 
away  like  a  horse,  just  to  tempt  the  Germans  to  come  out  of 
then'  lines.  It  was  with  these  blessed  youths  I  was  now  to 
serve,  for  the  tambour  of  the  Marboeuf  was  drowned  in 
crossing  the  Sambre  a  few  days  before.  Well,  we  passed 
the  river  safely,  and  uuperceived  by  the  enemy  gained  the 
pine  wood,  where  we  formed  in  two  columns,  —  one  of 
attack,  and  the  other  of  support,  the  voltigeurs  about  five 
hundred  paces  in  advance  of  the  leading  files.  The  morning 
was  dull  and  hazy,  for  a  heavy  rain  had  fallen  during  the 
night ;  and  the  country  is  flat,  and  so  much  intersected  with 
drains  and  dykes  and  ditches  that  after  rain  the  vapor  is 
too  thick  to  see  twenty  yards  on  any  side.  Our  business 
was  to  make  a  counter-march  to  the  right,  and,  guided  by 
the  noise  of  the  cannonade,  to  come  down  upon  the  enemy's 
flank  in  the  thickest  of  the  engagement.  As  we  advanced, 
we  found  ourselves  in  a  kind  of  marshy  plain,  planted  with 
willows,  and  so  thick  that  it  was  often  difficult  for  three  men 
to  march  abreast.  This  extended  for  a  considerable  dis- 
tance ;  and  on  escaping  from  it  we  saw  that  we  were  not 
above  a  mile  from  the  enemy's  left,  which  rested  on  a  little 
village." 

"I  know  it  well,"  broke  in  the  cannonier;  "it's  called 
Hujmingen." 

"Just  so.  There  was  a  formidable  battery  in  position 
there ;  and  part  of  the  place  was  stockaded,  as  if  they 
expected  an  attack.  Still,  there  were  no  vedettes,  nor  any 
look-out  party,  so  far  as  we  could  see ;  and  our  commanding 
officer  did  n't  well  know  what  to  make  of  it,  —  whether  it  was 
a  point  of  concealed  strength,  or  a  position  they  were  about 
to  withdraw  from.     At  all  events,  it  required  caution ;  and 


72  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

although  the  battle  had  already  begun  on  the  right,  —  as  a 
loud  cannonade  and  a  heavy  smoke  told  us,  — he  halted  the 
brigade  in  the  wood,  and  held  a  council  of  his  officers  to  see 
what  was  to  be  done.  The  resolution  come  to  was,  that  the 
voltigeurs  should  advance  alone  to  explore  the  way,  the  rest 
of  the  force  remaining  in  ambush.  We  were  to  go  out  in 
sections  of  companies,  and  spreading  over  a  wide  surface  see 
what  we  could  of  the  place. 

' '  Scarcely  was  the  order  given,  when  away  we  went,  — 
and  it  was  now  a  race  who  should  be  earliest  up  and 
exchange  the  first  shot  with  the  enemy.  Some  dashed  for- 
ward over  the  open  field  in  front ;  others  skulked  along  by 
dykes  and  ditches ;  some,  again,  dodged  here  and  there,  as 
cover  offered  its  shelter ;  but  about  a  dozen,  of  whom  I  was 
one,  kept  the  track  of  a  little  cart-road,  which,  half-con- 
cealed by  high  banks  and  furze,  ran  in  a  zig-zag  line  towards 
the  village.  I  was  always  smart  of  foot ;  and  now,  having 
newly  joined  the  voltigeurs,  was  naturally  eager  to  show  my- 
self not  unworthy  of  my  new  associates.  I  went  on  at  my 
best  pace,  and  being  lightly  equipped,  —  neither  musket  nor 
ball  cartridge  to  carry,  —  I  soon  outstripped  them  all,  and, 
after  about  twenty  minutes'  brisk  running,  saw  in  front  of 
me  a  long,  low  farm-house,  the  walls  all  pierced  for  mus- 
ketry, and  two  small  eight-pounders  in  battery  at  the  gate. 
I  looked  back  for  my  companions,  but  they  were  not  up,  — 
not  a  man  of  them  to  be  seen.  '  No  matter,'  thought  I, 
'  they  '11  be  here  soon ;  meanwhile  I  '11  make  for  that  little 
copse  of  brushwood ; '  for  a  small  clump  of  low  furze  and 
broom  was  standing  at  a  little  distance  in  front  of  the  farm. 
All  this  time,  I  ought  to  say,  not  a  man  of  the  enemy  was 
to  be  seen,  although  I,  from  where  I  stood,  could  see  the 
crenelated  walls  and  the  guns,  as  they  were  pointed ;  at  a 
distance  all  would  seem  like  an  ordinary  peasant  house. 

"As  I  crossed  the  open  space  to  gain  the  copse,  piff! 
came  a  bullet,  whizzing  past  me ;  and  just  as  I  r.eached  the 
cover,  piff !  came  another.  I  ducked  my  head  and  made  for 
the  thicket ;  but  just  as  I  did  so,  my  foot  caught  in  a  branch. 
I  stumbled  and  pitched  forward ;  and  trying  to  save  myself, 
I  grasped  a  bough  above  me ;  it  smashed  suddenly,  and 
down  I  went.     Ay !    down  sui'e   enough,  for  I  went   right 


"THE   ARMY   SIXTY  YEARS  SINCE."  73 

through  the  furze  and  into  a  well,  —  one  of  those  old  walled 
wells  they  have  in  these  countries,  with  a  huge  bucket  that 
fills  up  the  whole  space,  and  is  worked  by  a  chain.  Luckily, 
the  bucket  was  linked  up  near  the  top,  and  caught  me,  or 
I  should  have  gone  where  there  would  have  been  no  more 
heard  of  Pierre  Canot ;  as  it  was,  I  was  sorely  bruised  by 
the  fall,  and  did  n't  recover  myself  for  full  ten  minutes  after. 
Then  I  discovered  that  I  was  sitting  in  a  large  wooden 
trough,  hooped  with  ii'on,  and  supported  by  two  heavy  chains 
that  passed  over  a  windlass,  about  ten  feet  above  my  head. 

' '  I  was  safe  enough  for  the  matter  of  that ;  at  least  none 
were  likely  to  discover  me,  as  I  could  easily  see,  by  the  rust 
of  the  chain  and  the  grass-grown  edges,  that  the  well  had 
been  long  disused.  Now,  the  position  was  far  from  being 
pleasant.  There  stood  the  farm-house  full  of  soldiers,  the 
muskets  ranging  over  every  approach  to  where  I  lay.  Of 
my  comrades  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen,  they  had  either 
missed  the  way  or  retreated ;  and  so  time  crept  on,  and  I 
pondered  on  what  might  be  going  forward  elsewhere,  and 
whether  it  would  ever  be  my  own  fortune  to  see  my  comrades 
again. 

"  It  might  be  an  hour  —  it  seemed  three  or  four  to  me  — 
after  this,  as  I  looked  over  the  plain,  I  saw  the  caps  of  our 
infantry  just  issuing  over  the  brushwood,  and  a  glancing 
lustre  of  their  bayonets  as  the  sun  tipped  them.  They  were 
advancing,  but,  as  it  seemed,  slowly,  —  halting  at  times,  and 
then  mo\ing  forward  again,  just  like  a  force  waiting  for 
others  to  come  up.  At  last  they  debouched  into  the  plain ; 
but,  to  my  surprise,  they  wheeled  about  to  the  right,  leaving 
the  farm-house  on  their  flank,  as  if  to  march  beyond  it. 
This  was  to  lose  their  way  totally ;  nothing  would  be  easier 
than  to  carry  the  position  of  the  farm,  for  the  Germans  were 
e\idently  few,  had  no  vedettes,  and  thought  themselves  in 
perfect  security.  I  crept  out  from  my  ambush,  and  holding 
my  cap  on  a  stick  tried  to  attract  notice  from  our  fellows, 
but  none  saw  me.  I  ventured  at  last  to  shout  aloud,  but 
with  no  better  success ;  so  that,  driven  to  the  end  of  my 
resources,  I  set  to  and  beat  a  roulade  on  the  drum,  thunder- 
ing away  with  all  my  might,  and  not  caring  what  might  come 
of  it,  for  I  was  half  mad  with  vexation  as  well  as  despair*.  They 


74  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

heard  me  now.  I  saw  a  staff  officer  gallop  up  to  the  head 
of  the  leading  division  and  halt  them ;  a  volley  came  pepper- 
ing from  behind  me,  but  without  doing  me  any  injury,  for  T 
was  safe  once  more  in  my  bucket.  Then  came  another 
pause,  and  again  I  repeated  my  manoeuvre,  and  to  my  delight 
perceived  that  our  fellows  were  advancing  at  quick  march. 
I  beat  harder,  and  the  drums  of  the  grenadiers  answered  me. 
All  right  now,  thought  I,  as,  springing  forward,  I  called  out, 
'  This  way  boys,  the  wall  of  the  orchard  has  scarcely  a  man 
to  defend  it !  '  and  I  rattled  out  the  pas-de-diarge  with  all 
my  force.  One  crashing  fire  of  guns  and  small  arms 
answered  me  from  the  farm-house,  and  then  away  went  the 
Germans  as  hard  as  they  could ;  such  running  never  was 
seen !  One  of  the  guns  they  carried  off  with  them,  the 
tackle  of  the  other  broke,  and  the  drivers,  jumping  oft"  then- 
saddles,  took  to  their  legs  at  once.  Our  lads  were  over  the 
walls,  through  the  windows,  between  the  stockades,  every- 
where in  fact  in  a  minute,  and  once  inside  they  carried  all 
before  them.  The  village  was  taken  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  the  whole  force  of  the 
brigade  was  advancing  in  full  march  on  the  enemy's  flank. 
There  was  little  resistance  made  after  that,  and  Kaunitz 
only  saved  his  artillery  by  leaving  his  rearguard  to  be  cut  to 
pieces." 

The  cannonier  nodded,  as  if  in  full  assent,  and  Pierre 
looked  around  him  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  vindicated 
his  claim  to  greatness. 

"Of  course,"  said  he,  "the  despatch  said  little  about 
Pierre  Canot,  but  a  great  deal  about  Moreau  and  Kleber, 
and  the  rest  of  them." 

While  some  were  well  satisfied  that  Pierre  had  well  estab- 
lished his  merits  as  the  conqueror  of  Grandrengs,  others 
quizzed,  him  about  the  heroism  of  lying  hid  in  a  well,  and 
owing  all  his  glory  to  a  skin  of  parchment. 

"  An'  thou  wert  with  the  army  of  Italy,  Pierre,"  said  the 
hussar,  ' '  thou  'd  have  seen  men  march  boldly  to  victory, 
and  not  skulk  underground  like  a  mole." 

"I  am  tired  of  3^our  song  about  this  army  of  Italy," 
broke  in  the  cannonier ;  "we  who  have  served  in  La  Vendee 
and  the  North  know  what  fighting  means  as  well,  mayhap,  as 


"THE   ARMY   SIXTY   YEARS   SINCE."  75 

men  whose  boldest  feats  are  scaling  rocks  and  clambering  up 
precipices.  Your  Bonaparte  is  more  like  one  of  those 
Guerilla  chiefs  they  have  in  the  Basque,  than  the  general  of 
a  French  army." 

' '  The  man  who  insults  the  army  of  Italy,  or  its  chief, 
insults  me !  "  said  the  corporal,  springing  up,  and  casting  a 
sort  of  haughty  defiance  around  him. 

"And  then?"  asked  the  other. 

''And  then  —  if  he  be  a  French  soldier,  he  knows  what 
should  follow." 

^'  Parbleu!"  said  the  cannonier,  coolly,  "there  would  be 
little  glory  in  cutting  you  down,  and  even  less  in  being 
wounded  by  you ;  but  if  you  will  have  it  so,  it 's  not  an  old 
soldier  of  the  artillery  will  balk  your  humor." 

As  he  spoke,  he  slowly  arose  from  the  ground,  and  tight- 
ening his  waist-belt  seemed  prepared  to  follow  the  other. 
The  rest  sprang  to  theii-  feet  at  the  same  time,  but  not,  as  I 
anticipated,  to  offer  a  friendly  mediation  between  the  angry 
parties,  but  in  full  approval  of  their  readiness  to  decide  by 
the  sword  a  matter  too  trivial  to  be  called  a  quarrel. 

In  the  midst  of  the  whispering  conferences  as  to  place  and 
weapons  —  for  the  short  straight  sword  of  the  artillery  was 
very  unlike  the  curved  sabre  of  the  hussar  —  the  quick  tramp 
of  horses  was  heard,  and  suddenly  the  head  of  a  squadron 
was  seen,  as,  with  glancing  helmets  and  glittering  equip- 
ments, they  turned  off  the  high-road  and  entered  the  wood. 

"Here  they  come! — here  come  the  troops!"  was  now 
heard  on  every  side,  and  all  question  of  the  duel  was  for- 
gotten in  the  greater  interest  inspired  by  the  arrival  of  the 
others.  The  sight  was  strikingly  picturesque;  for  as  they 
rode  up  the  order  to  dismount  was  given,  and  in  an  instant 
the  whole  squadron  was  at  work  picqueting  and  unsaddling 
their  horses ;  forage  was  shaken  out  before  the  weary  and 
hungry  beasts,  kits  were  unpacked,  cooking  utensils  produced, 
and  every  one  busy  in  preparing  for  the  bivouac.  An  infan- 
try column  followed  close  upon  the  others,  which  was  again 
succeeded  by  two  batteries  of  field-artillery  and  some  squad- 
rons of  heavy  dragoons ;  and  now  the  whole  wood,  far  and 
near,  was  crammed  with  soldiers,  wagons,  caissons,  and 
camp  equipage. 


76  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

To  me  the  interest  of  the  scene  was  never-ending,  —  life, 
bustle,  and  gayety  on  every  side.  The  reckless  pleasantry 
of  the  camp,  too,  seemed  elevated  by  the  warlike  accompani- 
ments of  the  picture, — the  caparisoned  horses,  the  brass 
guns,  blackened  on  many  a  battle-field,  the  weather-seamed 
faces  of  the  hardy  soldiers  themselves,  all  conspiring  to  excite 
a  high  enthusiasm  for  the  career. 

Most  of  the  equipments  were  new  and  strange  to  my  eyes. 
I  had  never  before  seen  the  grenadiers  of  the  Republican 
Guard,  with  their  enormous  shakos,  and  then-  long-flapped 
vests,  descending  to  the  middle  of  the  thigh ;  neither  had  I 
seen  the  Hussars  de  la  mort,  in  their  richly-braided  uniform 
of  black,  and  their  long  hair  curled  in  ringlets  at  either  side 
of  the  face.  The  cuirassiers,  too,  with  their  low  cocked  hats, 
and  straight  black  feathers,  as  well  as  the  Fortes  Drapeaux, 
whose  brilliant  uniforms,  all  slashed  with  gold,  seemed 
scarcely  in  keeping  with  yellow-topped  boots,  —  all  were 
now  seen  by  me  for  the  first  time.  But  of  all  the  figui'es 
which  amused  me  most  by  its  singularity  was  that  of  a 
woman,  who,  in  a  short  frock-coat  and  a  low-crowned  hat, 
carried  a  little  barrel  at  her  side,  and  led  an  ass  loaded  with 
two  similar  but  rather  larger  casks.  Her  air  and  gait  were 
perfectly  soldier-lilve ;  and  as  she  passed  the  different  posts 
and  sentries,  she  saluted  them  in  true  military  fashion.  I 
was  not  long  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  her  vocation  nor  her 
name,  for  scarcely  did  she  pass  a  group  without  stopping  to 
dispense  a  wonderful  cordial  that  she  carried ;  and  then  I 
heard  the  familiar  title  of  La  Mere  Madou,  uttered  in  every 
form  of  panegyric. 

She  was  a  short,  stoutlj^-built  figure,  somewhat  past  the 
middle  of  life,  but  without  any  impairment  of  activity  in  her 
movements.  A  pleasing  countenance,  with  good  teeth  and 
black. eyes,  a  merry  voice  and  a  ready  tongue,  were  qualities 
more  than  sufficient  to  make  her  a  favorite  with  the  sol- 
diers, whom  I  found  she  had  followed  to  more  than  one 
battle-field. 

"Pes^e/"  cried  an  old  grenadier,  as  he  spat  out  the 
liquor  on  the  ground.  "  This  is  one  of  those  sweet  things 
they  make  in  Holland;  it  smacks  of  treacle  and  bad 
lemons." 


OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 

^liforn:^ 


'^/^yy^!;k::^9<i^^^.y>^^^ 


"THE  ARMY  SIXTY  YEARS   SINCE."  77 

"Ah,  Grognard !  "  said  she  laughing,  "thou  art  more 
used  to  com-braudy,  with  a  clove  of  garlic  in't  than  to 
good  curayoa." 

"What,  curaQoa !  Mere  Madou,  hast  got  curaqoa  there?" 
cried  a  gray- whiskered  captain,  as  he  turned  on  his  saddle  at 
the  word. 

"Yes,  mon  capitaine^  and  such  as  no  burgomaster  ever 
drank  better ;  "  and  she  filled  out  a  little  "glass  and  presented 
it  gracefully  to  him. 

"  Encore  !  ma  honneMere"  said  he,  as  he  wiped  his  thick 
mustache  ;  "  that  liquor  is  another  reason  for  extending  the 
blessings  of  liberty  to  the  brave  Dutch." 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  so?"  said  she,  refilling  the  glass; 
"  but,  holloa,  there  goes  Gregoire  at  full  speed.  Ah,  scoun- 
di'els  that  ye  are,  I  see  what  ye  've  done  !  "  And  so  was  it ; 
some  of  the  wild  young  voltigeur  fellows  had  fastened  a 
lighted  furze-bush  to  the  beast's  tail,  and  had  set  him  at  a 
gallop  through  the  very  middle  of  the  encampment,  upsetting 
tents,  scattering  cooking-pans,  and  tumbling  the  groups,  as 
they  sat,  in  every  dii'ection. 

The  confusion  was  tremendous ;  for  the  picqueted  horses 
jumped  about,  and  some  breaking  loose,  galloped  here  and 
there,  w^hile  others  set  off  with  half -unpacked  wagons,  scat- 
tering their  loading  as  they  went. 

It  was  only  when  the  blazing  furze  had  dropped  off  that 
the  cause  of  the  whole  mischance  would  suffer  himself  to  be 
captured  and  led  quietly  back  to  his  mistress.  Half  crying 
with  joy,  and  still  wild  with  anger,  she  kissed  the  beast  and 
abused  her  tormentors  by  turns. 

"  Cannoniers  that  ye  are,"  she  cried,  '-'"ma  foi !  you'll 
have  little  taste  for  fire  when  the  day  comes  that  ye  should 
face  it !  Pauvre  Gregoire,  they  've  left  thee  a  tail  like  a 
tu'ailleur's  feather  !  Plagues  light  on  the  thieves  that  did  it ! 
Come  here,  boy,"  said  she,  addressing  me,  "  hold  the  bridle ; 
what 's  thy  corps,  lad  ?  " 

' '  I  have  none  now ;  I  only  followed  the  soldiers  from 
Paris." 

"  Away  with  thee,  street  runner!  away  with  thee,  then !  " 
said  she,  contemptuously;  "there  are  no  pockets  to  pick 
here ;  and  if  there  were,  thou  'd  lose  thy  ears  for  the  doing 


78  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

it.  Be  off,  then,  back  with  thee  to  Paris  and  all  its  villanies  ! 
There  are  twenty  thousand  of  thy  trade  there,  but  there  's 
work  for  ye  ail." 

"  Xay,  Mere,  don't  be  harsh  with  the  boy,"  said  a  soldier; 
"  you  can  see  by  his  coat  that  his  heart  is  with  us." 

"And  he  stole  that,  I'll  be  sworn,"  said  she,  pulling  me 
round  by  the  arm,  full  in  front  of  her.  "Answer  me, 
gamin,  where  did'st  find  that  old  tawdry  jacket?" 

"  I  got  it  in  a  place  where,  if  they  had  hold  of  thee  and 
thy  bad  tongue,  it  would  fare  worse  with  thee  than  thou 
thinkest,"  said  I,  maddened  by  the  imputed  theft  and  inso- 
lence together. 

"And  where  may  that  be,  young  slip  of  the  galleys?" 
cried  she,  angrily. 

"  In  the  Prison  du  Temple." 

"  Is  thattheii'  livery,  then?  "  said  she,  laughing  and  point- 
ing at  me  with  ridicule,  "or  is  it  a  family  dress  made  after 
thy  father's?" 

"My  father  wore  a  soldier's  coat,  and  bravely,  too,"  said 
I,  with  difficulty  restraining  the  tears  that  rose  to  my  eyes. 

' '  In  what  regiment,  boy  ?  "  asked  the  soldier  who  spoke 
before. 

"In  one  that  exists  no  longer,"  said  I,  sadly,  and  not 
wishing  to  allude  to  a  service  that  would  find  but  slight 
favor  in  republican  ears. 

' '  That  must  be  the  Twenty- fourth  of  the  Line ;  they  were 
cut  to  pieces  at  Tongres." 

"No,  no,  he's  thinking  of  the  Ninth,  that  got  so  roughly 
handled  at  Fontenoy,"  said  another. 

"  Of  neither,"  said  I ;  "  I  am  speaking  of  those  who  have 
left  nothing  but  a  name  behind  them,  the  Garde  du  Corps 
of  the  king." 

"  VoilcW  cried  Madou,  clapping  her  hands  in  astonish- 
ment at  my  impertinence;  "there's  an  aristocrat  for  you! 
Look  at  him,  mes  braves !  it 's  not  every  day  we  have  the 
grand  seigneurs  condescending  to  come  amongst  us  !  You 
can  learn  something  of  courtly  manners  from  the  polished 
descendant  of  our  nobility.  Say,  boy,  art  a  count  or  a  baron, 
or  perhaps  a  duke  ?  " 

"Make  way  there  —  out  of  the  road,  M^re  Madou,"  cried 


"THE   ARMY   SIXTY  YEARS  SINCE."  79 

a  dragoon,  curveting  his  horse  in  such  a  fashion  as  almost  to 
upset  ass  and  cantiniere  together,  "  the  staff  is  coming." 

The  mere  mention  of  the  word  sent  numbers  off  in  full 
speed  to  theii'  quarters ;  and  now  all  was  haste  and  bustle  to 
prepare  for  the  coming  inspection.  The  Mere's  endeavors 
to  drag  her  beast  along  were  not  very  successful ;  for,  with 
the  peculiar  instinct  of  his  species,  the  more  necessity  there 
was  of  speed  the  lazier  he  became ;  and  as  every  one  had  his 
own  concerns  to  look  after,  she  was  left  to  her  own  unaided 
efforts  to  drive  him  forward. 

"  Thou  'It  have  a  day  in  prison  if  thou  'rt  found  here, 
M^re  Madou,"  said  a  dragoon,  as  he  struck  the  ass  with  the 
flat  of  his  sabre. 

''I  know  it  well,"  cried  she,  passionately;  "but  I  have 
none  to  help  me.  Come  here,  lad ;  be  good-natured,  and 
forget  what  passed.  Take  his  bridle  while  I  whip  him 
on." 

I  was  at  first  disposed  to  refuse,  but  her  pitiful  face  and 
sad  plight  made  me  think  better  of  it ;  and  I  seized  the  bridle 
at  once ;  but  just  as  I  had  done  so,  the  escort  galloped  for- 
ward, and  the  dragoons  coming  on  the  flank  of  the  miserable 
beast,  over  he  went,  barrels  and  all,  crushing  me  beneath 
him  as  he  fell. 

"Is  the  boy  hurt?"  were  the  last  words  I  heard,  as  I 
fainted ;  but  a  few  minutes  after  I  found  myself  seated  on 
the  grass,  while  a  soldier  was  stanching  the  blood  that  ran 
freely  from  a  cut  in  my  forehead. 

"It  is  a  trifle.  General,  —  a  mere  scratch,"  said  a  young 
officer  to  an  old  man  on  horseback  beside  him,  ' '  and  the  leg 
is  not  broken." 

"Glad  of  it,"  said  the  old  officer;  "casualties  are  in- 
sufferable, except  before  an  enemy.  Send  the  lad  to  his 
regiment." 

"He's  only  a  camp  follower,  General.  He  does  not 
belong  to  us." 

"  There,  my  lad^  take  this,  then,  and  make  thy  way  back 
to  Paris,"  said  the  old  general,  as  he  threw  me  a  small  piece 
of  money. 

I  looked  up,  and,  straight  before  me,  saw  the  same  officer 
who  had  given  me  the  assignat  the  night  before. 


80  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

' '  General  Lacoste  !  "  cried  I,  in  delight,  for  I  thought  him 
already  a  friend. 

"  How  is  this  —  have  I  an  acquaintance  here?"  said  he, 
smiling ;  "  on  my  life  it 's  the  young  rogue  I  met  this  morn- 
ing. Eh !  art  not  thou  the  artillery  driver  I  spoke  to  at  the 
barrack  ?  " 

"Yes,  General,  the  same." 

"  Diantre!  It  seems  fated,  then,  that  we  are  not  to  part 
company  so  easily ;  for  hadst  thou  remained  in  Paris,  lad, 
we  had  most  probably  never  met  again." 

^^  Ainsi,  je  suis  bien  tomhe^  General,"  said  I,  punning 
upon  my  accident. 

He  laughed  heartily,  less  I  suppose  at  the  jest,  which  was 
a  poor  one,  than  at  the  cool  impudence  with  which  I  uttered 
it ;  and  then  turning  to  one  of  the  staff,  said,  — 

"I  spoke  to  Bertholet  about  this  boy  already;  see  that 
they  take  him  in  the  Ninth.  I  say,  my  lad,  what's  thy 
name  ?  " 

"  Tiernay,  sir." 

"Ay,  to  be  sure,  Tiernay.  Well,  Tiernay,  thou  shalt  be 
a  hussar,  my  man.  See  that  I  get  no  disgrace  by  the 
appointment." 

I  kissed  his  hand  fervently,  and  the  staff  rode  foi^ard, 
leaving  me  the  happiest  heart  that  beat  in  all  that  crowded 
host. 


UNIVERSITY 

OF 

CHAPTER  \^I. 

A    PASSING    ACQUAINTANCE. 

If  the  guide  who  is  to  lead  us  on  a  long  and  devious  track 
stops  at  every  by-way,  following  out  each  path  that  seems 
to  invite  a  ramble  or  suggest  a  halt,  we  natui-ally  might  feel 
distrustful  of  his  safe  conduct,  and  uneasy  at  the  prospect  of 
the  road  before  us.  In  the  same  way  may  the  reader  be  dis- 
posed to  fear  that  he  who  descends  to  slight  and  trivial  cir- 
cumstances will  scarcely  have  time  for  events  which  ought 
to  occupy  a  wider  space  in  his  reminiscences ;  and  for  this 
reason  I  am  bound  to  apologize  for  the  seeming  transgres- 
sion of  my  last  chapter.  Most  true  it  is  that  were  I  to  relate 
the  entu'e  of  my  life  with  a  similar  diffuseness,  my  memoir 
would  extend  to  a  length  far  beyond  what  I  intend  it  to 
occupy.  Such,  however,  is  very  remote  from  my  thoughts. 
I  have  dwelt,  with  perhaps  something  of  prolixity,  upon  the 
soldier-life  and  characteristics  of  a  past  day,  because  I  shall 
yet  have  to  speak  of  changes,  without  which  the  contrast 
would  be  inappreciable ;  but  I  have  also  laid  stress  upon  an 
incident  trivial  in  itself,  because  it  formed  an  event  in 
my  own  fortunes.  It  was  thus,  in  fact,  that  I  became  a 
soldier. 

Now,  the  man  who  carries  a  musket  in  the  ranks  may  very 
reasonably  be  deemed  but  a  small  ingredient  of  the  mass 
that  forms  an  army ;  and  in  our  day  his  thoughts,  hopes, 
fears,  and  ambitions  are  probably  as  unknown  and  uncared 
for  as  the  precise  spot  of  earth  that  yielded  the  ore  from 
which  his  own  weapon  was  smelted.  This  is  not  only  rea- 
sonable, but  it  is  right.  In  the  time  of  which  I  am  now 
speaking  it  was  far  otherwise.  The  Republic  in  extinguish- 
ing a  class  had  elevated  the  individual;  and  now  each,  in 
whatever  station  he  occupied,  felt  himself  qualified  to  enter- 


82  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

tain  opinions  and  express  sentiments  which,  because  they 
were  his  own,  he  presumed  to  be  national.  The  idlers  of  the 
streets  discussed  the  deepest  questions  of  politics ;  the  sol- 
diers talked  of  war  with  all  the  presumption  of  consummate 
generalship.  The  great  operations  of  a  campaign,  and  the 
various  qualities  of  different  commanders,  were  the  daily 
subjects  of  dispute  in  the  camp.  Upon  one  topic  only  were 
all  agreed;  and  there,  indeed,  our  unanimity  repaid  all 
previous  discordance.  We  deemed  France  the  only  civilized 
nation  of  the  globe,  and  reckoned  that  people  thrice  happy 
who,  by  any  contingency  of  fortune,  engaged  our  sympathy, 
or  procured  the  distinction  of  our  presence  in  arms.  We 
were  the  heaven-born  disseminators  of  freedom  throughout 
Europe ;  the  sworn  enemies  of  kingly  domination ;  and  the 
missionaries  of  a  political  creed  which  was  not  alone  to 
ennoble  mankind,  but  to  render  its  condition  eminently 
happy  and  prosperous. 

There  could  not  be  an  easier  lesson  to  learn  than  this,  and 
particularly  when  dinned  into  your  ears  all  day,  and  from 
every  rank  and  grade  around  you.  It  was  the  programme 
of  every  message  from  the  Directory ;  it  was  the  opening  of 
every  general  order  from  the  general ;  it  was  the  table-talk 
at  your  mess.  The  burthen  of  every  song,  the  title  of  every 
military  march  performed  by  the  regimental  band,  recalled 
it ;  even  the  riding-master,  as  he  followed  the  recruit  around 
the  weary  circle,  whip  in  hand,  mingled  the  orders  he  uttered 
with  apposite  axioms  upon  republican  grandeur.  How  I 
think  I  hear  it  still !  as  the  grim  old  quartermaster-sergeant, 
with  his  Alsatian  accent  and  deep- toned  voice,  would  call 
out,  — 

"  Elbows  back  !  wrist  lower  and  free  from  the  side,  —  free, 
I  say,  as  every  citizen  of  a  great  Republic !  head  erect,  as 
a  Frenchman  has  a  right  to  carry  it !  chest  full  out,  like  one 
who  can  breathe  the  air  of  heaven,  and  ask  no  leave  from 
king  or  despot !  down  with  your  heel,  sir,  —  think  that  you 
crush  a  tyrant  beneath  it !  " 

Such  and  such  like  were  the  running  commentaries  on 
equitation,  till  often  I  forgot  whether  the  lesson  had  more 
concern  with  a  seat  on  horseback  or  the  great  cause  of  mon- 
archy throughout  Europe.     I  suppose,  to  use  a  popular  phrase 


A  PASSING  ACQUAmXANCE.  83 

of  our  own  day,  ' '  the  sj'stem  worked  well ;  "  certainly  the 
si^ii-it  of  the  army  was  unquestionable.  From  the  grim  old 
veteran,  with  snow-white  mustache,  to  the  beardless  boy, 
there  was  but  one  hope  and  wish, — the  glory  of  France. 
How  they  understood  that  glory,  or  in  what  it  essentially 
consisted,  is  another  and  very  different  question. 

Enrolled  as  a  soldier  in  the  ninth  regiment  of  Hussars,  I 
accompanied  that  corps  to  Nancy,  where  at  that  time  a  large 
cavalry  school  was  formed,  and  where  the  recruits  from  the 
different  regiments  were  trained  and  managed  before  being 
sent  forward  to  their  destination. 

A  taste  for  equitation,  and  a  certain  aptitude  for  catching 
up  the  peculiar  character  of  the  different  horses,  at  once  dis- 
tinguished me  in  the  riding- school,  and  I  was  at  last  adopted 
by  the  riding-master  of  the  regiment  as  a  kind  of  aide  to  him 
in  his  walk.  When  I  thus  became  a  bold  and  skilful  horse- 
man, my  proficiency  interfered  with  my  promotion,  for 
instead  of  accompanying  my  regiment  I  was  detained  at 
Nancy,  and  attached  to  the  permanent  staff  of  the  cavalry 
school  there. 

At  first  I  asked  for  nothing  better.  It  was  a  life  of  con- 
tinued pleasure  and  excitement ;  and  while  I  daily  acquired 
knowledge  of  a  subject  which  interested  me  deeply,  I  grew 
tall  and  strong  of  limb,  and  with  that  readiness  in  danger, 
and  that  cool  collectedness  in  moments  of  difficulty,  that  are 
so  admirably  taught  by  the  accidents  and  mischances  of  a 
cavalry  riding-school. 

The  most  vicious  and  unmanageable  beasts  from  the 
Limousin  were  often  sent  to  us,  and  when  any  of  these  was 
deemed  peculiarly  untractable,  "  Give  him  to  Tiernay,"  was 
the  last  appeal,  before  abandoning  him  as  hopeless.  I  'm 
certain  I  owe  much  of  the  formation  of  my  character  to  my 
life  at  this  period,  and  that  my  love  of  adventure,  my  taste 
for  excitement,  my  obstinate  resolution  to  conquer  a  diffi- 
culty, my  inflexible  perseverance  when  thwarted,  and  my 
eager  anxiety  for  praise  were  all  picked  up  amid  the  saw- 
dust and  tan  of  the  riding-school.  How  long  I  might  have 
continued  satisfied  with  such  triumphs,  and  content  to  be  the 
wonder  of  the  freshly-joined  conscripts,  I  know  not,  when 
accident,  or  something  very  like  it,  decided  the  question. 


84  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

It  was  a  calm,  delicious  evening  in  April,  in  the  year  after 
I  had  entered  the  school,  that  I  was  strolling  alone  on  the 
old  fortified  wall,  which,  once  a  strong  redoubt,  was  the 
favorite  walk  of  the  good  citizens  of  Nancy.  I  was  some- 
what tu'ed  with  the  fatigues  of  the  day,  and  sat  down  to  rest 
under  one  of  the  acacia-trees,  whose  delicious  blossom  was 
already  scenting  the  air.  The  night  was  still  and  noiseless ; 
not  a  man  moved  along  the  wall ;  the  hum  of  the  city  was 
gradually  subsiding,  and  the  lights  in  the  cottages  over  the 
plain  told  that  the  laborer  was  turning  homeward  from  his 
toil.  It  was  an  hour  to  invite  calm  thoughts,  and  so  I  fell 
a-dreaming  over  the  tranquil  pleasures  of  a  peasant's  life, 
and  the  unruffled  peace  of  an  existence  passed  amid  scenes 
that  were  endeared  by  years  of  intimacy.  "  How  happily," 
thought  I,  "time  must  steal  on  in  these  quiet  spots,  where 
the  strife  and  struggle  of  war  are  unknown,  and  even  the 
sounds  of  conflict  never  reach ! "  Suddenly  my  musings 
were  broken  in  upon  by  hearing  the  measured  tramp  of 
cavaby,  as  at  a  walk ;  a  long  column  wound  their  way  along 
the  zig-zag  approaches,  which  by  many  a  redoubt  and  fosse, 
over  many  a  draw-bridge,  and  beneath  many  a  strong  arch 
led  to  the  gates  of  Nancy.  The  loud,  sharp  call  of  a  ti-um- 
pet  was  soon  heard,  and,  after  a  brief  parley,  the  massive 
gates  of  the  fortress  were  opened  for  the  troops  to  enter. 
From  the  position  I  occupied  exactly  over  the  gate,  I  could 
not  only  see  the  long,  dark  line  of  armed  men  as  they 
passed,  but  also  hear  the  colloquy  which  took  place  as  they 
entered. 

"  What  regiment?  " 

' '  Detachments  of  the  Twelfth  Dragoons  and  the  Twenty- 
second  Chasseurs-a-Cheval. " 

"Where  from?" 

"  Valence." 

"Where  to?" 

"  The  army  of  the  Rhine." 

"  Pass  on  I  " 

And  with  the  words  the  ringing  sound  of  the  iron-shod 
horses  was  heard  beneath  the  vaulted  entrance.  As  they 
issued  from  beneath  the  long  deep  arch,  the  men  were  formed 
in  line  along  two  sides  of  a  wide  Place  inside  the  walls. 


A  PASSING  ACQUAINTANCE.  85 

where,  with  that  despatch  that  habit  teaches,  the  billets  were 
speedily  distributed,  and  the  parties  "told  off"  in  squads 
for  different  parts  of  the  city.  The  force  seemed  a  con- 
siderable one,  and  with  all  the  celerity  they  could  employ 
the  billeting  occupied  a  long  time.  As  I  watched  the  groups 
moving  off,  I  heard  the  direction  given  to  one  party, 
"Cavalry  School  —  Rue  de  Lorraine."  The  young  officer 
who  commanded  the  group  took  a  direction  exactly  the 
reverse  of  the  right  one ;  and  hastening  down  from  the  ram- 
part, I  at  once  overtook  them,  and  explained  the  mistake.  I 
offered  them  my  guidance  to  the  place,  which  being  willingly 
accepted,  I  walked  along  at  their  side. 

Chatting  as  we  went,  I  heard  that  the  dragoons  were 
hastily  withdrawn  from  La  Vendee  to  form  part  of  the  force 
under  General  Hoche.  The  young  sous-lieutenant,  a  mere 
boy  of  my  own  age,  had  already  served  in  two  campaigns, 
in  Holland  and  the  south  of  France ;  had  been  wounded  in 
the  Loire,  and  received  his  grade  of  officer  at  the  hands  of 
Hoche  himself  on  the  field  of  battle. 

He  could  speak  of  no  other  name,  — Hoche  was  the  hero 
of  all  his  thoughts ;  his  gallantry,  his  daring,  his  military 
knowledge,  his  coolness  in  danger,  his  impetuosity  in  attack, 
his  personal  amiabilit}^,  the  mild  gentleness  of  his  manner, 
were  themes  the  young  soldier  loved  to  dwell  on ;  and  how- 
ever pressed  by  me  to  talk  of  war  and  its  chances,  he  in- 
evitably came  back  to  the  one  loved  theme,  —  his  general. 

When  the  men  were  safely  housed  for  the  night,  I  invited 
my  new  friend  to  my  own  quarters,  where,  having  provided 
the  best  entertainment  I  could  afford,  we  passed  more  than 
half  the  night  in  chatting.  There  was  nothing  above  me- 
diocrity in  the  look  or  manner  of  the  youth ;  his  descriptions 
of  what  he  had  seen  were  unmarked  by  anything  glowing  or 
picturesque ;  his  observations  did  not  evince  either  a  quick 
or  a  reflective  mind,  —  and  yet  over  this  mass  of  common- 
place enthusiasm  for  his  leader  had  shed  a  rich  glow,  like  a 
gorgeous  sunlight  on  a  landscape,  that  made  all  beneath  it 
seem  brilliant  and  splendid. 

"  And  now,"  said  he,  after  an  account  of  the  last  action 
he  had  seen,  "and  now,  enough  of  myself;  let's  talk  of 
thee.     Where  hast  thou  been  ?  " 


86  MAURICE  TIEEXAY. 


a 


Here !  "  said  I,  with  a  sigh,  and  in  a  voice  that  shame 
had  almost  made  inaudible.     '^Here,  here,  at  Nancy." 

"  Not  always  here?  " 

"  Just  so.     Always  here." 

"And  what  doing,  ??i07i  cher?  Thou  art  not  one  of  the 
Municipal  Guard,  sui'ely  ?  " 

"No,"  said  I,  smiling  sadly,  "I  belong  to  the  '  Ecole 
d'Equitation.'" 

"Ah,  that's  it,"  said  he,  in  somewhat  of  confusion;  "I 
always  thought  they  selected  old  Serjeants  en  retraite^  worn 
out  veterans,  and  wounded  fellows  for  riding-school  duty." 

"  Most  of  oui'S  are  such,"  said  I,  my  shame  increasing  at 
every  word ;  ' '  but  somehow  they  chose  me  also,  and  1  had 
no  will  in  the  matter  —  " 

"No  will  in  the  matter,  pa?'5?e?t  .^  and  why  not?  Every 
man  in  France  has  a  right  to  meet  the  enemy  in  the  field. 
Thou  art  a  soldier,  a  hussar  of  the  Ninth,  a  brave  and  gal- 
lant corps ;  and  art  to  be  told  that  thy  comrades  have  the 
road  to  fame  and  honor  open  to  them,  whilst  thou  art  to 
mope  away  life  like  an  invalided  drummer?  It  is  too  gross 
an  indignity,  my  boy,  and  must  not  be  borne.  Away  with 
you  to-morrow  at  daybreak  to  the  Etat  Major ;  ask  to  see 
the  Commandant.  You're  in  luck,  too,  for  our  colonel  is 
with  him  now,  and  he  is  sure  to  back  your  request.  Say 
that  you  sei-^'ed  in  the  school  to  oblige  your  superiors,  but 
that  you  cannot  see  all  chances  of  distinction  lost  to  you 
forever  by  remaining  there.  They  've  given  you  no  grade 
yet,  I  see,"  continued  he,  looking  at  my  arm. 

"  None  ;  I  am  still  a  private." 

"  And  I  a  sous-lieutenant,  just  because  I  have  been  where 
powder  was  flashing  !     You  can  ride  well,  of  course  ?  " 

"I  defy  the  wildest  Limousin  to  shake  me  in  my  saddle." 

"  And,  as  a  swordsman,  what  are  you?  " 

"  Gros  Jean  calls  me  his  best  pupil." 

"Ah,  true!  you  have  Gros  Jean  here,  the  best  sabreur 
in  France !  And  here  you  are,  —  a  horseman,  and  one  of 
Gros  Jean's  eUves^  rotting  away  life  in  Nancy !  Have  you 
any  friends  in  the  service  ?  " 

"  Not  one." 

"  Not  one  !     Nor  relations,  nor  connections?  " 


A  PASSING  ACQUAINTANCE.  87 

"None.  I  am  Irish  by  descent.  My  family  are  only 
French  by  one  generation." 

"Irish!  Ah!  that's  lucky  too,"  said  he.  "Our  colonel 
is  an  Irishman.  His  name  is  Mahon.  You  're  certain  of 
getting  your  leave  now.  I  '11  present  you  to  him  to-mon'ow. 
We  are  to  halt  two  days  here,  and  before  that  is  over  I  hope 
you'll  have  made  youi'  last  caracole  in  the  riding-school  of 
Nancy." 

"But,  remember,"  cried  I,  "that  although  Irish  by 
family,  I  have  never  been  there.  I  know  nothing  of  either 
the  people  or  the  language,  and  do  not  present  me  to  the 
general  as  his  countryman." 

"I'll  call  you  by  your  name,  as  a  soldier  of  the  Ninth 
Hussars,  and  leave  you  to  make  out  your  claim  as  country- 
men, if  you  please,  together." 

This  com-se  was  now  agreed  upon,  and  after  some  further 
talking,  my  friend,  refusing  all  my  offers  of  a  bed,  coolly 
wrapped  his  cloak  about  him,  and,  with  his  head  on  the 
table,  feU  fast  asleep  long  before  I  had  ceased  thinking  over 
his  stories  and  his  adventures  in  camp  and  battle-field. 


CHAPTER  Vin. 

"  TRONCHON." 

My  duties  in  the  riding-school  were  always  over  before  mid- 
day ;  and  as  noon  was  the  hour  appointed  by  the  young 
lieutenant  to  present  me  to  his  colonel,  I  was  ready  by  that 
time,  and  anxiously  awaiting  his  arrival.  I  had  done  my 
best  to  smarten  up  my  uniform,  and  make  all  my  accoutre- 
ments bright  and  glistening.  My  scabbard  was  polished 
like  silver,  the  steel  front  of  my  shako  shone  like  a  mirror, 
and  the  tinsel  lace  of  my  jacket  had  undergone  a  process  of 
scrubbing  and  cleaning  that  threatened  its  very  existence. 
My  smooth  chin  and  beardless  upper  lip,  however,  gave  me 
a  degree  of  distress  that  all  other  deficiencies  failed  to  inflict. 
I  can  dare  to  say  that  no  mediaeval  gentleman's  bald  spot 
ever  cost  him  one-half  the  misery  as  did  my  lack  of 
mustache  occasion  me.  "A  hussar  without  beard,  —  as 
well  without  spurs  or  sabretasche ;  "  a  tambour  major  with- 
out his  staff,  a  cavalry  charger  without  a  tail,  could  n't  be 
more  ridiculous ;  and  there  was  that  old  sergeant  of  the  rid- 
ing-school, Tronchon,  with  a  beard  that  might  have  made  a 
mattress !  How  the  goods  of  this  world  are  unequally 
distributed,  thought  I!  still,  why  might  he  not  spare  me  a 
little  —  a  very  little  would  suffice  —  just  enough  to  give  the 
"  air  hussar  "  to  my  countenance.  He's  an  excellent  crea- 
ture, the  kindest  old  fellow  in  the  world ;  I  'm  certain  he  'd 
not  refuse  me.  To  be  sure,  the  beard  is  a  red  one,  and 
pretty  much  like  bell-wire  in  consistence ;  no  matter,  better 
that  than  this  girlish  smooth  chin  I  now  wear. 

Tronchon  was  spelling  out  the  "Moniteur's"  account  of 
the  Italian  campaign  as  I  entered  his  room,  and  found  it  ex- 
cessively diflUcult  to  get  back  from  the  Alps  and  Appenines 
to  the  humble  request  I  preferred. 


"  TRONCHON."  89 

"Poor  fellows!"  muttered  he,  "four  battles  in  seven 
days,  without  stores  of  any  kind  or  rations  —  almost  without 
bread ;  and  here  comest  thou,  whining  because  thou  has  n't 
a  beard !  " 

"  If  I  were  not  a  hussar —  " 

"Bah!"  said  he,  interrupting,  "what  of  that?  Where 
should' st  thou  have  had  thy  baptism  of  blood,  boy  ?  Art  a 
child,  nothing  more." 

' '  I  shared  my  quarters  last  night  with  one  not  older, 
Tronchon;  and  he  was  an  officer,  and  had  seen  many  a 
battle-field." 

"  I  know  that,  too,"  said  the  veteran,  with  an  expression 
of  impatience  ;  ' '  and  that  General  Bonaparte  will  give  every 
boy  his  epaulettes  before  an  old  and  tried  soldier." 

"  It  was  not  Bonaparte.     It  was  —  " 

"  I  care  not  who  promoted  the  lad ;  the  system  is  just  the 
same  with  them  all.  It  is  no  longer,  '  Where  have  you 
served,  what  have  you  seen  ?  '  but,  '  Can  you  read  glibly, 
can  you  write  faster  than  speak,  have  you  learned  to  take 
towns  upon  paper,  and  attack  a  breastwork  with  a  rule  and 
a  pair  of  compasses?'  This  is  what  they  called  la  genie! 
La  genie ^  —  ha !  ha !  ha  !  "  cried  he,  laughing  heartily ; 
' '  that 's  the  name  old  women  used  to  give  the  devil  when  I 
was  a  boy." 

It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  I  could  get  him  back 
from  these  disagreeable  reminiscences  to  the  object  of  my 
visit,  and  even  then  I  could  hardly  persuade  him  that  I  was 
serious  in  asking  the  loan  of  a  beard.  The  prayer  of  my 
petition  being  once  understood,  he  discussed  the  project 
gravely  enough ;  but  to  my  surprise  he  was  far  more  struck 
by  the  absurd  figure  he  should  cut  with  his  diminished  mane 
than  1  with  my  mock  mustache. 

"  There 's  not  a  child  in  Nancy  won't  laugh  at  me  ;  they  '11 
cry,  'There  goes  old  Tronchon!  he's  like  Kleber's  charger, 
which  the  German  cut  the  tail  off  to  make  a  shako 
plume.' " 

I  assured  him  that  he  might  as  well  pretend  to  miss  one 
tree  in  the  forest  of  Fontainebleau ;  that  after  furnishing  a 
squadron  like  myself,  his  would  be  still  the  first  beard  in  the 
Republic ;  and  at  last  he  yielded,  and  gave  in. 


90  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

Never  did  a  little  damsel  of  the  nursery  array  her  doll  with 
niore  delighted  looks,  and  gaze  upon  her  handiwork  with 
more  self-satisfaction,  than  did  old  Tronchon  survey  me,  as 
with  the  aid  of  a  little  gum  he  decorated  ni}^  lip  with  a  stiff 
line  of  his  iron-red  beard. 

"  Diantre  !  "  cried  he,  in  ecstasy,  "  if  thou  be  n't  something 
like  a  man  after  all!  Who  would  have  thought  it  would 
have  made  such  a  change?  Thou  might  pass  for  one  that 
saw  real  smoke  and  real  fire,  any  da}^  lad.  Ay !  thou  hast 
another  look  in  thine  eye,  and  another  way  to  carry  thy  head, 
now !  Trust  me,  thou  'It  look  a  different  fellow  on  the  left  of 
the  squadron." 

I  began  to  think  so  too,  as  I  looked  at  myself  in  the  small 
triangle  of  a  looking-glass  which  decorated  Tronchon's  wall, 
under  a  picture  of  Kellerman,  his  first  captain.  I  fancied 
that  the  improvement  was  most  decided.  I  thought  that, 
bating  a  little  over-ferocity,  a  something  verging  upon  the 
cruel,  I  was  about  as  perfect  a  type  of  the  hussar  as  need  be. 
My  jacket  seemed  to  fit  tighter,  my  pelisse  hung  more  jaun- 
tily, my  shako  sat  more  saucily  on  one  side  of  my  head,  my 
sabre  banged  more  proudly  against  my  boot,  my  very  spurs 
jangled  with  a  pleasanter  music,  —  and  all  because  a  little 
hair  bristled  over  my  lip,  and  curled  in  two  spii-al  flourishes 
across  my  cheek !  I  longed  to  see  the  effect  of  my  changed 
appearance,  as  I  walked  down  the  Place  Carri^re,  or  saun- 
tered into  the  cafe  where  my  comrades  used  to  assemble. 
What  will  Mademoiselle  Josephine  say,  thought  I,  as  I  ask 
for  my  petite  vhn-e^  caressing  my  mustache  thus !  Not  a 
doubt  of  it,  what  a  fan  is  to  a  woman  a  beard  is  to  a  soldier, 
—  a  something  to  fill  up  the  pauses  in  conversation,  by 
blandly  smoothing  with  the  finger  or  fiercely  curling  at  the 
point. 

"  And  so  thou  art  going  to  ask  for  thy  grade,  Maurice?  " 
broke  in  Tronchon,  after  a  long  silence. 

"  Not  at  all.  I  am  about  to  petition  for  employment  upon 
active  service.  I  don't  seek  promotion  till  I  have  deserved 
it." 

"Better  still,  lad.  I  was  eight  years  myself  in  the  ranks 
before  they  gave  me  the  stripe  on  my  arm.  Parhleu!  the 
Germans  had  given  me  some  three  or  four  with  the  sabre 
before  that  time." 


"  TRONCHON."  91 

"  Do  you  think  they  '11  refuse  me,  Tronchon?  " 

"Not  if  thou  go  the  right  way  about  it,  lad.  Thou 
mustn't  fancy  it's  like  asking  leave  from  the  captain  to 
spend  the  evening  in  a  guijiguette,  or  to  go  to  the  play  with 
thy  sweetheart.  No,  no,  boy.  It  must  be  done  en  r^gle. 
Thou  'It  have  to  wait  on  the  general  at  his  quarters  at  four 
o'clock,  when  he  '  receives,'  as  they  call  it.  Thou  'It  be 
there,  mayhap,  an  hour, — ay,  two  or  three  belike,  —  and 
after  all,  perhaps,  won't  see  him  that  day  at  all !  I  was  a 
week  trying  to  catch  Kellerman,  and  at  last  he  only  spoke  to 
me  going  down  staii's  with  his  staff,  — 

"'Eh,  Tronchon,  another  bullet  in  thy  old  carcass? 
Want  a  furlough  to  get  strong  again,  eh?' 

"  '  No,  colonel;  all  sound  this  time.  I  want  to  be  a  ser- 
geant ;  I  'm  twelve  years  and  four  months  corporal.' 

"  '  Slow  work,  too,'  said  he,  laughing,  '  ain't  it,  Charles? ' 
and  he  pinched  one  of  his  young  officers  by  the  cheek. 
'  Let  old  Tronchon  have  his  grade ;  and  I  say,  my  good 
fellow,'  said  he  to  me,  '  don't  come  plaguing  me  any  more 
about  promotion  till  I  'm  General  of  Division.  You  hear 
that?' 

"Well,  he's  got  his  step  since;  but  I  never  teased  him 
after." 

"  And  why  so,  Tronchon?  "  said  I. 

"  I'll  tell  thee,  lad,"  whispered  he,  in  a  low  confidential 
tone,  as  if  imparting  a  secret  well  worth  the  hearing. 
"  They  can  find  fellows  every  day  fit  for  lieutenants  and 
chefs  cVescadron.  Parhleu!  they  meet  with  them  in  every 
cafe^  in  every  '  billiard '  you  enter ;  but  a  sergeant !  Mam^ice, 
one  that  drills  his  men  on  parade,  can  dress  them  like  a 
wall,  see  that  every  kit  is  well  packed  and  every  cartouche 
well  filled,  who  knows  every  soul  in  his  company  as  he 
knows  the  buckles  of  his  own  sword-belt,  —  that 's  what  one 
should  not  chance  upon  in  haste.  It 's  easy  enough  to 
manoeuvre  the  men,  Maurice ;  but  to  make  them,  boy,  to 
fashion  the  fellows  so  that  they  be  like  the  pieces  of  a  great 
machine,  — that's  the  real  labor,  that's  soldiering  indeed." 

"And  you  say  I  must  write  a  petition,  Tronchon?"  said 
I,  more  anxious  to  bring  him  back  to  my  own  affairs  than 
listen  to  these  speculations  of  his.     "  How  shall  I  do  it? " 


92  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"  Sit  down  there,  lad,  and  I'll  tell  thee.  I've  done  the 
thing  some  scores  of  times,  and  know  the  words  as  well  as  I 
once  knew  my  'Pater.'  Parbleu!  I  often  wish  I  could 
remember  that  now,  just  to  keep  me  from  gloomy  thoughts 
when  I  sit  alone  of  an  evening." 

It  was  not  a  little  to  his  astonishment,  but  still  more  to 
his  delight,  that  I  told  the  poor  fellow  I  could  help  to  refresh 
his  memory,  knowing,  as  I  did,  every  word  of  the  litanies  by 
heart;  and,  accordingly,  it  was  agreed  on  that  I  should 
impart  religious  instruction  in  exchange  for  the  secular  know- 
ledge he  was  conferring  upon  me. 

"As  for  the  petition,"  said  Tronchon,  seating  himself 
opposite  to  me  at  the  table,  "  it  is  soon  done ;  for  mark  me, 
lad,  these  things  must  always  be  short ;  if  thou  be  long- 
winded,  they  put  thee  away,  and  tell  some  of  the  clerks  to 
look  after  thee,  and  there  's  an  end  of  it.  Be  brief,  there- 
fore ;  and  next,  be  legible,  —  write  in  a  good,  large  round 
hand,  just  as  if  thou  wert  speaking,  thou  wouldst  talk  with 
a  fine,  clear,  distinct  voice.  Well,  then,  begin  thus : 
'  Republic  of  I^rance,  one  and  invincible ! '  Make  a  flourish 
round  that,  lad,  as  if  it  came  freely  from  the  pen.  When  a 
man  writes  '  France ! '  he  should  do  it  as  he  whirls  his  sabre 
round  his  head  in  a  charge !     Ay,  just  so." 

"I'm  ready,  Tronchon,  go  on." 

''^ '- Mon  General!^  ^^y?  nay,  General  mustn't  be  as 
large  as  France,  —  yes,  that 's  better.  '  The  undersigned, 
whose  certificates  of  senice  and  conduct  are  herewith 
enclosed.' " 

' '  Stay,  stop  a  moment,  Tronchon ;  don't  forget  that  I 
have  got  neither  one  nor  t'  other." 

"No  matter;  I'll  make  thee  out  both.  Where  was  I? 
Ay,  '  herewith  enclosed ;  and  whose  wounds,  as  the  accom- 
panying report  will  show  — '  " 

"  Wounds  !  I  never  received  one." 

"No  matter,  I'll  —  eh!  what?  Feu  cVenfer!  how  stupid 
I  am !  What  have  I  been  thinking  of?  Why,  boy,  it  was  a 
sick-furlough  I  was  about  to  ask  for,  —  the  only  kind  of 
petition  I  have  ever  had  to  write  in  a  life  long." 

"  And  I  am  asking  for  active  service." 
Ha !     That  came  without  asking  for  in  my  case." 


(( 


"  TRONCHON."  93 

"Then  what's  to  be  done,  Tronchon?  Clearl}-,  this 
won't  do." 

He  nodded  sententiously  an  assent,  and,  after  a  moment's 
rumination,  said,  — 

"  It  strikes  me,  lad,  there  can  be  no  need  of  begging  for 
that  which  usually  comes  unlooked  for;  but  if  thou  don't 
choose  to  wait  for  thy  billet  for  t'  other  world,  but  must  go 
and  seek  it,  the  best  way  will  be  to  up  and  tell  the  general  as 
much." 

"  That  was  exactly  my  intention." 

"If  he  asks  thee  'Canst  ride?'  just  say,  'Old  Tronchon 
taught  me ; '  he  '11  be  one  of  the  young  hands,  indeed,  if  he 
don't  know  that  name !  And  mind,  lad,  have  no  whims  or 
caprices  about  whatever  service  he  names  thee  for,  even 
wer't  the  infantry  itself !  It 's  a  hard  word,  that,  I  know  it 
well !  but  a  man  must  make  up  his  mind  for  anything  and 
everything.  Wear  any  coat,  go  anjnvhere,  face  any  enemy 
thou  'rt  ordered,  and  have  none  of  those  new-fangled  notions 
about  this  general  or  that  army.  Be  a  good  soldier  and  a 
good  comrade.  Share  thy  kit  and  thy  purse  to  the  last  sous, 
for  it  will  not  only  be  generous  in  thee,  but  that  so  long  as 
thou  hoardest  not  thou  'It  never  be  over  eager  for  pillage. 
Mind  these  things,  and  with  a  stout  heart  and  a  sharp  sabre, 
Maurice  '  tu  ira  loin.'  Yes,  I  tell  thee  again,  lad,  '  tu  ira 
loin.'  " 

I  give  these  three  words  as  he  said  them,  for  they  have 
rung  in  my  ears  thi'oughout  all  my  life  long.  In  moments 
of  gratified  ambition,  in  the  glorious  triumph  of  success, 
they  have  sounded  to  me  like  the  confirmed  predictions  of 
one  who  foresaw  my  elevation  in  less  prosperous  hours. 
When  fortune  has  looked  dark  and  lowering,  they  have  been 
my  comforter  and  support,  telling  me  not  to  be  downcast  or 
depressed,  that  the  season  of  sadness  would  soon  pass  away, 
and  the  road  to  fame  and  honor  again  open  before  me. 

"  You  really  think  so,  Tronchon?  You  think  that  I  shall 
be  something  yet?  " 

"  '  Tu  u^a  loin,'  I  say,"  repeated  he  emphatically,  and  with 
the  air  of  an  oracle  who  would  not  suffer  further  interroga- 
tion. I  therefore  shook  his  hand  cordially,  and  set  out  to 
pay  my  visit  to  the  general. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A    SCRAPE   AND    ITS    CONSEQUENCES. 

When  I  reached  the  quarters  of  the  Etat  Major,  I  found  the 
great  courtyard  of  the  hotel  crowded  with  soldiers  of 
every  rank  and  arm  of  the  service.  Some  were  newly- 
joined  recruits  waiting  for  the  orders  to  be  forwarded  to 
their  respective  regiments,  some  were  invalids  just  issued 
from  the  hospital,  some  were  sick  and  wounded  on  their  way 
homeward.  There  were  sergeants  with  billet  rolls  and 
returns  and  court-martial  sentences,  adjutants  with  regi- 
mental documents  hastening  hither  and  thither;  mounted 
orderlies,  too,  continually  came  and  went;  all  was  bustle, 
movement,  and  confusion.  Officers  in  staff  uniforms  called 
out  the  orders  from  the  different  windows,  and  despatches 
were  sent  off'  here  and  there  with  hot  haste.  The  building 
was  the  ancient  palace  of  the  Dukes  of  Lorraine,  and  a 
splendid  fountain  of  white  marble  in  the  centre  of  the 
Com*  still  showed  the  proud  armorial  bearings  of  that 
princely  house.  Around  the  sculptured  base  of  this  now 
were  seated  groups  of  soldiers,  their  war-worn  looks  and 
piled  arms  contrasting  strangely  enough  with  the  great 
porcelain  vases  of  flowering'  plants  that  still  decorated  the 
rich  plateau.  Shakos,  helmets,  and  great-coats  were  hung 
upon  the  orange-trees.  The  heavy  boots  of  the  cuirassier, 
the  white  leather  apron  of  the  sapeur,  were  drying  along 
the  marble  benches  of  the  terrace.  The  richly-traceried 
veining  of  gilt  iron-work  which  separated  the  court  from 
the  garden  was  actually  covered  with  belts,  swords, 
bayonets,  and  horse-gear,  in  every  stage  and  process  of 
cleaning.  Within  the  garden  itself,  however,  all  was  silent 
and  still,  —  two  sentries,  who  paced  backwards  and  for- 
wards beneath  the   grille,  showing  that   the  spot  was  to  be 


A  SCRAPE   AND  ITS   CONSEQUENCES.  95 

respected  by  those  whose  careless  gestui-es  and  reckless  air 
betrayed  how  little  influence  the  mere  ''  genius  of  the  place  " 
would  exercise  over  them. 

To  me  the  interest  of  everything  was  increasing ;  and 
whether  I  lingered  to  listen  to  the  raw  remarks  of  the  new 
recruit,  in  wonder  at  all  he  saw,  or  stopped  to  hear  the 
campaigning  stories  of  the  old  soldiers  of  the  army,  I  never 
wearied.  Few,  if  any,  knew  whither  they  were  going,  — 
perhaps  to  the  north  to  join  the  army  of  the  Sambre, 
perhaps  to  the  east  to  the  force  upon  the  Rhine ;  it  might 
be  that  they  were  destined  for  Italy,  — none  cared  !  Mean- 
while, at  every  moment,  detachments  moved  off,  and  their 
places  were  filled  by  fresh  arrivals,  all  dusty  and  way-worn 
from  the  march.  Some  had  scarcely  time  to  eat  a  hurried 
morsel  when  they  were  called  on  to  "  fall  in,"  and  again  the 
word  "forward"  was  given.  Such  of  the  infantry  as 
appeared  too  weary  for  the  march  were  sent  on  in  great 
charrettes  di*awn  by  six  or  eight  horses,  and  capable  of 
carrying  forty  men  in  each ;  and  of  these  there  seemed  to 
be  no  end.  No  sooner  was  one  detachment  away  than 
another  succeeded.  Whatever  their  destination,  one  thing 
seemed  evident,  —  the  urgency  that  called  them  was  beyond 
the  common.  For  a  while  I  forgot  all  about  myself  in  the 
greater  interest  of  the  scene  ;  but  then  came  the  thought  that 
I  too  should  have  my  share  in  this  onward  movement,  and 
now  I  set  out  to  seek  for  my  young  friend  the  "  Sous- 
Lieutenant."  I  had  not  asked  his  name,  but  his  regiment  I 
knew  to  be  the  Twenty-second  Chasseurs-a-Cheval.  The 
uniform  was  light  green,  and  easily  enough  to  be  recognized ; 
yet  nowhere  was  it  to  be  seen.  There  were  cuu-assiers  and 
hussars,  heavy  dragoons  and  carabiniers,  in  abundance,  — 
everything,  in  short,  but  what  I  sought. 

At  last  I  asked  of  an  old  quartermaster  where  the  Twenty- 
second  were  quartered,  and  heard  to  my  utter  dismay  that 
they  had  marched  that  morning  at  eight  o'  clock.  There 
were  two  more  squadrons  expected  to  arrive  at  noon,  but  the 
orders  were  that  they  were  to  proceed  without  further  halt. 

"  And  whither  to? "  asked  I. 

"  To  Treves,  on  the  Moselle,"  said  he,  and  turned  away  as 
if  he  would  not  be  questioned  further.     It  was  trae  that  my 


96  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

young  friend  could  not  have  been  much  of  a  patron,  yet  the 
loss  of  him  was  deeply  felt  by  me.  He  was  to  have  intro- 
duced me  to  his  colonel,  who  probably  might  have  obtained 
the  leave  I  desired  at  once  ;  and  now  I  knew  no  one,  not  one 
even  to  advise  me  how  to  act.  I  sat  down  upon  a  bench  to 
think,  but  could  resolve  on  nothing ;  the  very  sight  of  that 
busy  scene  had  now  become  a  reproach  to  me.  There  were 
the  veterans  of  a  hundred  battles  hastening  foi*ward  again 
to  the  field ;  there  were  the  young  soldiers  just  flushed  with 
recent  victory ;  even  the  peasant  boys  were  ' '  eager  for  the 
fray ;  "  but  I  alone  was  to  have  no  part  in  the  coming  glory. 
The  enthusiasm  of  all  around  only  served  to  increase  and 
deepen  my  depression.  There  was  not  one  there,  from  the 
old  and  war-worn  veteran  of  the  ranks  to  the  merest  boy, 
with  whom  I  would  not  gladly  have  exchanged  fortunes. 
Some  hours  passed  over  in  these  gloomy  reveries,  and  when 
I  looked  up  from  the  stupor  my  own  thoughts  had  thrown 
over  me,  the  Com-  was  almost  empty.  A  few  sick  sol- 
diers waiting  for  their  billets  of  leave,  a  few  recruits  not 
yet  named  to  any  corps,  and  a  stray  orderly  or  two  standing 
beside  his  horse  were  all  that  remained. 

I  arose  to  go  away,  but  in  my  pre-occupatioii  of  mind, 
instead  of  turning  toward  the  street,  I  passed  beneath  a  large 
archway  into  another  court  of  the  building,  somewhat 
smaller,  but  much  richer  in  decoration  and  ornament  than 
the  outer  one.  After  spending  some  time  admiring  the 
quaint  devices  and  grim  heads  which  peeped  out  from  all 
the  architraves  and  friezes,  my  eye  was  caught  by  a  low, 
arched  doorway,  in  the  middle  of  which  was  a  small  railed 
window,  like  the  grille  of  a  convent.  I  approached,  and 
perceived  that  it  led  into  a  garden  by  a  long,  narrow  walk 
of  clipped  yew,  dense  and  upright  as  a  wall.  The  trimly- 
raked  gravel  and  the  smooth  surface  of  the  hedge  showed 
the  care  bestowed  on  the  grounds  to  be  a  wide  contrast  to 
the  neglect  exhibited  in  the  mansion  itself ;  a  narrow  border  of 
hyacinths  and  carnations  ran  along  either  side  of  the  walk, 
the  gorgeous  blossoms  appearing  in  strong  relief  against  the 
background  of  dark  foliage. 

The  door,  as  I  leaned  against  it,  gently  yielded  to  the 
pressure  of  my  ai-m,  and  almost  without  knowing  it  I  found 


A   SCRAPE  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.  97 

myself  standing  within  the  precincts  of  the  garden.  My 
first  impulse,  of  course,  was  to  retu'e  and  close  the  door 
again ;  but  somehow,  I  never  knew  exactly  why,  I  could  not 
resist  the  desire  to  see  a  little  more  of  a  scene  so  tempting. 
There  was  no  mark  of  footsteps  on  the  gravel,  and  I  thought 
it  likely  the  garden  was  empty.  On  I  w^ent,  therefore,  at 
first  with  cautious  and  uncertain  steps,  at  last  with  more 
confidence,  for  as  I  issued  from  the  hedge-waUv  and  reached 
an  open  space  beyond,  the  solitude  seemed  unbroken.  Fruit- 
trees,  loaded  with  their  produce,  stood  in  a  closely-shaven 
lawn,  through  which  a  small  stream  meandered,  its  banks 
planted  with  daffodils  and  water-lilies.  Some  pheasants 
moved  about  through  the  grass,  but  without  alarm  at  my 
presence ;  while  a  young  fawn  boldly  came  over  to  me,  and 
although  in  seeming  disappointment  at  not  finding  an  old 
friend,  continued  to  walk  beside  me  as  I  went. 

The  grounds  appeared  of  great  extent;  paths  led  off  in 
every  direction ;  and  while  in  some  places  I  could  perceive 
the  glittering  roof  and  sides  of  a  conservatory,  in  others 
the  humble  culture  of  a  vegetable  garden  was  to  be  seen. 
There  was  a  wondrous  fascination  in  the  calm  and  tranquil 
solitude  around ;  and  coming,  as  it  did,  so  immediately  after 
the  busy  bustle  of  the  "  soldiering,"  I  soon  not  only  forgot 
that  I  was  an  intruder  there,  but  suffered  myself  to  wander 
"  fancy  free,"  following  out  the  thoughts  each  object  sug- 
gested. I  believe  at  that  moment,  if  the  choice  were  given 
me,  I  would  rather  have  been  the  "Adam  of  that  Eden" 
than  the  proudest  of  those  generals  that  ever  led  a  column 
to  victory  !  Fortunately,  or  unfortunately  —  it  would  not  be 
easy  to  decide  which  —  the  alternative  was  not  open  to  me. 
It  was  while  I  was  still  musing,  that  I  found  m3'self  at  the 
foot  of  a  little  eminence,  on  which  stood  a  tower  whose 
height  and  position  showed  it  had  been  built  for  the  view  it 
afforded  over  a  vast  tract  of  country.  Even  from  where  I 
stood,  at  its  base,  I  could  see  over  miles  and  miles  of  a  great 
plain,  with  the  main  roads  leading  towards  the  north  and 
eastward.  This  spot  was  also  the  boundary  of  the  grounds, 
and  a  portion  of  the  old  boulevard  of  the  town  formed  the 
defence  against  the  open  country  beyond.  It  was  a  deep 
ditch,  with  sides  of  sloping  sward  cropped  neatly  and  kept 

7 


98  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

in  trimmest  order,  but  from  its  depth  and  width  forming 
a  fence  of  a  formidable  kind.  I  was  peering  cautiously 
down  into  the  abyss,  when  I  heard  a  voice  so  close  to  my 
ear  that  I  started  with  surprise.  I  listened,  and  perceived 
that  the  speaker  was  dh-ectly  above  me ;  and  leaning  over 
the  battlements  at  the  top  of  the  tower. 

"  You're  quite  right,"  cried  he,  as  he  adjusted  a  telescope 
to  his  eye,  and  directed  his  view  towards  the  plain.  "He 
has  gone  wrong !  He  has  taken  the  Strasbourg  road  instead 
of  the  northern  one." 

An  exclamation  of  anger  followed  these  words ;  and  now 
I  saw  the  telescope  passed  to  another  hand,  and  to  my 
astonishment  that  of   a  lady. 

' '  Was  there  ever  stupidity  like  that  ?  He  saw  the  map 
like  the  others,  and  yet —  Parhleu  !  it 's  too  bad  !  " 

I  could  perceive  that  a  female  voice  made  some  rejoinder, 
but  not  distinguish  the  words  ;  when  the  man  again  spoke, — 

"No,  no!  it's  all  a  blimder  of  that  old  major;  and  here 
am  I  without  an  orderly  to  send  after  him.  Diahle!  it  is 
provoking." 

' '  Is  n't  that  one  of  your  people  at  the  foot  of  the  tower  ?  " 
said  the  lady,  as  she  pointed  to  where  I  stood,  praying  for 
the  earth  to  open  and  close  over  me ;  for  as  he  moved  his 
head  to  look  down,  I  saw  the  epaulettes  of  a  staff  officer. 

"  Holloa  !  "  cried  he,  "  are  you  on  duty  ?  " 

"  Xo,  sii';  I  was  —  " 

Not  waiting  for  me  to  finish  an  explanation,  he  went  on,  — 

"Follow  that  division  of  cavalry  that  has  taken  the 
Strasbourg  road,  and  tell  Major  Roquelard  that  he  has  gone 
wrong ;  he  should  have  turned  off  to  the  left  at  the  suburbs. 
Lose  no  time,  but  away  at  once.  Y^ou  are  mounted,  of 
com-se  ?  " 

"No,  sir,  my  horse  is  at  quarters ;  but  I  can  —  " 

"  No,  no  !  it  will  be  too  late,"  he  broke  in  again.  "  Take 
my  troop  horse,  and  be  off.  You  '11  find  him  in  the  stable  to 
your  left." 

Then  tm-ning  to  the  lady  I  heard  him  say,  — 

"  It  may  save  Roquelard  from  an  arrest." 

I  did  not  wait  for  more,  but  hm-ried  off  in  the  direction 
he  had  pointed.     A  short  gravel  walk  brought  me  in  front 


A   SCRAPE  AND   ITS   CONSEQUENCES.  99 

of  a  low  building,  in  the  cottage  style,  but  which,  decorated 
with  emblems  of  the  chase,  I  guessed  to  be  the  stable.  Not 
a  groom  was  to  be  seen ;  but  the  door  being  unlatched  I 
entered  freely.  Four  large  and  handsome  horses  were 
feeding  at  the  racks,  their  glossy  coats  and  long  silken 
manes  showing  the  care  bestowed  upon  them.  Which  is 
the  trooper,  thought  I,  as  I  surveyed  them  all  with  keen 
and  scrutinizing  eye.  All  my  skill  in  such  matters  was 
unable  to  decide  the  point ;  they  seemed  all  alike  valuable 
and  handsome,  in  equally  high  condition,  and  exhibiting 
equal  marks  of  careful  treatment.  Two  were  stamped  on 
the  haunches  with  the  letters  "  R.  F.  ; "  and  these,  of 
course,  were  cavalry  horses.  One  was  a  powerful  black 
horse,  whose  strong  quarters  and  deep  chest  bespoke  great 
action,  while  the  backward  glances  of  his  eye  indicated  the 
temper  of  a  "tartar."  Making  choice  of  him  without  an 
instant's  hesitation,  I  threw  on  the  saddle,  adjusted  the 
stuTups  to  my  own  length,  buckled  the  bridle,  and  led  him 
forth.  In  all  my  "  school  experience"  I  had  never  seen  an 
animal  that  pleased  me  so  much ;  his  well-arched  neck  and 
slightly-dipped  back  showed  that  an  Arab  cross  had  mingled 
with  the  stronger  qualities  of  the  Norman  horse.  I  sprung 
to  my  saddle  with  delight ;  to  be  astride  such  a  beast  was 
to  kindle  up  all  the  enthusiasm  of  my  nature,  and  as  I 
grasped  the  reins,  and  urged  him  foi-ward,  I  was  half  wild 
with  excitement. 

Apparently  the  animal  was  accustomed  to  more  gentle 
treatment,  for  he  gave  a  loud  snort,  such  as  a  surprised  or 
frightened  horse  will  give,  and  then  bounded  foi*ward  once 
or  twice,  as  if  to  dismount  me.  This  failing,  he  reared  up 
perfectly  straight,  pawing  madly,  and  threatening  even  to 
fall  backwards.  I  saw  that  I  had,  indeed,  selected  a  wicked 
one;  for  in  every  bound  and  spring,  in  every  curvet  and 
leap,  the  object  was  clearly  to  unseat  the  rider.  At  one 
instant  he  would  crouch,  as  if  to  lie  down,  and  then  bound 
up  several  feet  in  the  air,  with  a  toss  up  of  his  haunches 
that  almost  sent  me  over  his  head.  At  another  he  would 
spring  froni  side  to  side,  writhing  and  twisting  like  a  fish, 
till  the  saddle  seemed  actually  slipping  away  from  his  lithe 
body.     Not  only  did  I  resist  all  these  attacks,  but  vigorously 


100  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

continued  to  punish  with  whip  and  spur  the  entire  time.  — a 
proceeding,  I  could  easily  see,  he  was  not  prepared  for.  At 
last,  actually  maddened  with  his  inability  to  throw  me,  and 
enraged  by  my  continuing  to  spur  him.  he  broke  away,  and 
dashing  headlong  forward,  rushed  into  the  very  thickest  of 
the  grove.  Fortunately  for  me,  the  trees  were  either  shrubs 
or  of  stunted  growth,  so  that  I  had  only  to  keep  my  saddle 
to  escape  danger;  but  suddenly  emerging  from  this,  he 
gained  the  open  sward,  and  as  if  his  passion  became  more 
furious  as  he  indulged  in  it,  he  thi-ew  up  his  head,  and 
struck  out  in  full  gallop.  I  had  but  time  to  see  that  he  was 
heading  for  the  great  fosse  of  the  boulevard,  when  we  were 
already  on  its  brink.  A  shout  and  a  cry,  of  I  know  not 
what,  came  from  the  tower ;  but  I  heard  nothing  more. 
Mad  as  the  maddened  animal  himself,  perhaps  at  that 
moment  just  as  indifferent  to  life,  I  dashed  the  spurs  into 
his  flanks,  and  over  we  went,  lighting  on  the  green  sward 
as  easily  as  a  seagull  on  a  wave.  To  all  seeming,  the 
terrible  leap  had  somewhat  sobered  him ;  Init  on  me  it  had 
produced  the  very  opposite  eft'ect.  I  felt  that  I  had  gained 
the  mastery,  and  resolved  to  use  it.  With  um'elentiug 
punishment,  then,  I  rode  him  foi^ward,  taking  the  country 
as  it  lay  straight  before  me.  The  few  fences  which  divided 
the  great  fields  were  too  insignificant  to  be  called  leaps,  and 
he  took  them  in  the  "sling"'  of  his  stretching  gallop.  He 
was  now  subdued,  yielding  to  every  tiu-n  of  my  wiist,  and 
obeying  every  motive  of  my  will  like  an  instinct.  It  may 
read  like  a  petty  victory ;  but  he  who  has  ever  experienced 
the  ti-iumph  over  an  enraged  and  powerful  horse,  well  knows 
that  few  sensations  are  more  pleasm-ably  exciting.  High 
as  is  the  excitement  of  being  borne  along  in  full  speed, 
leaving  village  and  spu'e,  glen  and  river,  bridge  and  mill 
behind  you,  —  now  careering  up  the  mountain  side  with  the 
fresh  breeze  upon  your  brow,  now  diving  into  the  dark 
forest,  startling  the  hare  from  her  cover  and  sending  the 
wild  deer  scampering  before  you,  —  it  is  still  increased  by 
the  sense  of  a  victory,  by  feeling  that  the  mastery  is  with 
you,  and  that  each  bound  of  the  noble  beast  beneath  you  has 
its  impulse  in  your  own  heart. 

Although  the  cavalry  squadrons  I  was  despatched  to  over- 


A  SCRAPE  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.  101 

take  had  quitted  Nancy  four  hours  before,  I  came  up  with 
them  in  less  than  an  hour,  and  inquii'ing  for  the  officer  in 
command,  rode  up  to  the  head  of  the  division.  He  was  a 
thin,  gaunt-looking,  stern-featured  man,  who  listened  to  my 
message  without  changing  a  muscle. 

"  Who  sent  you  with  this  order?  "  said  he. 

"A  general  officer,  sir,  whose  name  I  don't  know;  but 
who  told  me  to  take  his  own  horse  and  follow  you." 

"Did  he  tell  you  to  kill  the  animal,  sir?"  said  he,  point- 
ing to  the  heaving  flanks  and  shaking  tail  of  the  exhausted 
beast. 

"  He  bolted  with  me  at  first,  major,  and  having  cleared 
the  ditch  of  the  boulevard,  rode  away  with  me." 

"Why,  it's  Colonel  Mahon's  Arab  '  Aleppo,' "  said  an- 
other officer;  "what  could  have  persuaded  him  to  mount 
an  orderly  on  a  beast  worth  ten  thousand  francs  ?  " 

I  thought  I  'd  have  fainted  as  I  heard  these  words ;  the 
whole  consequences  of  my  act  revealed  themselves  before 
me,  and  I  saw  arrest,  trial,  sentence,  imprisonment,  and 
Heaven  knew  what  afterwards,  like  a  panorama  rolling  out 
to  my  view. 

"  Tell  the  colonel,  sir,"  said  the  major,  "  that  I  have  taken 
the  north  road,  intending  to  cross  over  at  Beaumont;  that 
the  artillery  trains  have  cut  up  the  Metz  road  so  deeply 
cavah-y  cannot  travel;  tell  him  I  thank  him  much  for  his 
politeness  in  foi-warding  this  despatch  to  me ;  and  tell  him 
that  I  regret  the  rules  of  active  service  should  prevent  my 
sending  back  an  escort  to  place  yourself  under  arrest  for  the 
manner  in  which  you  have  ridden,  — you  hear,  sir?  " 

I  touched  my  cap  in  salute. 

"Are  you  certain,  sk,  that  you  have  my  answer  cor- 
rectly?" 

"I  am,  sir." 

"  Repeat  it,  then." 

I  repeated  the  reply,  word  for  word,  as  he  spoke  it. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  he,  as  I  concluded  ;  "  I  said  f or  unsoldier- 
like  and  cruel  treatment  to  your  horse." 

One  of  his  officers  whispered  something  in  his  ear,  and  he 
quietly  added,  — 

"  I  find  that  I  had  not  used  these  words,  but  I  ought  to 


102  MAUKICE   TIERNAY. 

have  done  so ;  give  the  message,  therefore,  as  you  heard  it 
at  first." 

"  Mahon  will  shoot  him,  to  a  certainty,"  muttered  one  of 
the  captains. 

"  I  'd  not  blame  him,"  joined  another ;  "  that  horse  saved 
his  life  at  Quiberon,  when  he  fell  in  with  a  patrol,  —  and 
look  at  him  now  !  " 

The  major  made  a  sign  for  me  to  retire,  and  I  turned  and 
set  out  towards  Nancy,  with  the  feelings  of  a  convict  on  the 
way  to  his  fate. 

If  I  ^did  not  feel  that  these  brief  records  of  an  humble 
career  were  "upon  honor,"  and  that  the  onl}^  useful  lesson 
a  life  so  unimportant  can  teach  is  the  conflict  between 
opposing  influences,  I  might  possibly  be  disposed  to  blink 
the  avowal  that  as  I  rode  along  towards  Nancy  a  very  great 
doubt  occurred  to  me  as  to  whether  I  ought  not  to  desert ! 
It  is  a  very  ignoble  expression ;  but  it  must  out.  There 
were  not  in  the  French  service  any  of  those  ignominious 
punishments  which,  once  undergone,  a  man  is  dishonored 
forever,  and  no  more  admissible  to  rank  with  men  of  char- 
acter than  if  convicted  of  actual  crime ;  but  there  were 
marks  of  degradation  almost  as  severe  then  in  vogue,  and 
which  men  dreaded  with  a  fear  nearly  as  acute,  —  such,  for 
instance,  as  being  ordered  for  service  at  the  Bagne  de  Brest 
in  Toulon,  the  arduous  duty  of  guarding  the  galley-slaves, 
and  which  was  scarcely  a  degree  above  the  condition  of  the 
condemned  themselves.  Than  such  a  fate  as  this,  I  would 
willingly  have  preferred  death.  It  was,  then,  this  thought 
that  suggested  desertion ;  but  I  soon  rejected  the  unworthy 
temptation,  and  held  on  my  way  towards  Nancy. 

Aleppo,  if  at  first  wearied  by  the  severe  burst,  soon  rallied, 
while  he  showed  no  traces  of  his  fiery  temper,  and  exhibited 
few  of  fatigue ;  and  as  I  walked  along  at  his  side,  washing 
his  mouth  and  nostrils  at  each  fountain  I  passed,  and  slack- 
ening his  saddle-girths  to  give  him  freedom,  long  before  we 
arrived  at  the  suburbs  he  had  regained  all  his  looks  and 
much  of  his  spirit. 

At  last  we  entered  Nancy  about  nightfall,  and,  with  a 
failing  heart,  I  found  myself  at  the  gate  of  the  Ducal  palace. 
The  sentries  suffered  me  to  pass  unmolested,  and  entering  I 


A  SCRAPE  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.      103 

took  my  way  through  the  courtyard  towards  the  small  gate 
of  the  garden,  which,  as  I  had  left  it,  was  unlatched. 

It  was  strange  enough,  the  nearer  I  drew  towards  the 
eventful  moment  of  my  fate  the  more  resolute  and  composed 
my  heart  became.  It  is  possible,  thought  I,  that  in  a  fit  of 
passion  he  will  send  a  ball  through  me,  as  the  officer  said. 
Be  it  so,  —  the  matter  is  the  sooner  ended.  If,  however,  he 
will  condescend  to  listen  to  my  explanation,  I  may  be  able 
to  assert  my  innocence,  at  least  so  far  as  intention  went. 
With  this  comforting  conclusion,  I  descended  at  the  stable 
door.  Two  dragoons  in  undress  were  smoking,  as  they  lay 
at  full  length  upon  a  bench,  and  speedily  arose  as  I  came 
up. 

"  Tell  the  colonel  he's  come,  Jacques,"  said  one,  in  a  loud 
voice,  and  the  other  retired ;  while  the  speaker,  turning 
towards  me,  took  the  bridle  from  my  hand,  and  led  the 
animal  in,  without  vouchsafing  a  word  to  me. 

"An  active  beast  that,"  said  I,  affecting  the  easiest  and 
coolest  indifference.  The  soldier  gave  me  a  look  of  undis- 
guised amazement,  and  I  continued,  — 

"He  has  had  a  bad  hand  on  him,  I  should  say,  —  some 
one  too  flurried  and  too  fidgetty  to  give  confidence  to  a  hot- 
tempered  horse." 

Another  stare  was  all  the  reply. 

"  In  a  little  time,  and  with  a  little  patience,  I  'd  make  him 
as  gentle  as  a  lamb." 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  '11  not  have  the  oppoi-tunity,"  replied  he, 
significantly;  "but  the  colonel,  I  see,  is  waiting  for  you, 
and  you  can  discuss  the  matter  together." 

The  other  dragoon  had  just  then  returned,  and  made  me  a 
sign  to  follow  him.  A  few  paces  brought  us  to  the  door  of 
a  small  pavilion,  at  which  a  sentry  stood,  and  having  mo- 
tioned to  me  to  pass  in,  my  guide  left  me.  An  orderly  ser- 
geant at  the  same  instant  appeared,  and  beckoning  to  me  to 
advance,  he  drew  aside  a  curtain,  and  pushing  me  foi^ard, 
let  the  heavy  folds  close  behind  me  ;  and  now  I  found  myself 
in  a  richly-furnished  chamber,  at  the  farther  end  of  which  an 
officer  was  at  'supper  with  a  young  and  handsome  woman. 
The  profusion  of  waxlights  on  the  table,  the  glitter  of  plate 
and  glass  and  porcelain,  the  richness  of  the  lady's  dress, 


104  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

which  seemed  like  the  costume  of  a  ball,  were  all  objects 
distracting  enough,  but  they  could  not  turn  me  from  the 
thought  of  my  own  condition ;  and  I  stood  still  and  motion- 
less, while  the  officer,  a  man  of  about  fifty,  with  dark  and 
stern  features,  deliberately  scanned  me  from  head  to  foot. 
Not  a  word  did  he  speak,  not  a  gesture  did  he  make,  but  sat, 
with  his  black  eyes  actually  piercing  me.  I  would  have 
given  anj^thing  for  some  outbreak  of  auger,  some  burst  of 
passion,  that  would  have  put  an  end  to  this  horrible  sus- 
pense, but  none  came ;  and  there  he  remained  several 
minutes,  as  if  contemplating  something  too  new  and  strange 
for  utterance.  "This  must  have  an  end,"  thought  I, — 
"  here  goes ;  "  and  so,  with  my  hand  in  salute,  I  drew  my- 
self full  up,  and  said,  — 

"I  carried  your  orders,  sii',  and  received  for  answer  that 
Major  .Roquelard  had  taken  the  north  road  advisedly,  as 
that  by  Beaumont  was  cut  up  by  the  artillery  trains ;  that  he 
would  cross  over  to  the  Metz  Chaussee  as  soon  as  possible ; 
that  he  thanked  you  for  the  kindness  of  youi'  warning,  and 
regretted  that  the  rules  of  active  senice  precluded  his  des- 
patching an  escort  of  arrest  along  with  me,  for  the  mannef 
in  which  I  had  ridden  with  the  order." 

"Anything  more?"  asked  the  colonel,  in  a  voice  that 
sounded  thick  and  guttural  with  passion. 

"  Nothing  more,  sir." 

"  No  further  remark  or  observation?  " 

"  None,  su',  —  at  least  from  the  major." 

"  What,  then,  — from  any  other?  " 

"  A  captain,  sir,  whose  name  I  do  not  know,  did  saj^ 
something." 

"What  was  it?" 

"  I  forget  the  precise  words,  sir,  but  their  puiport  was 
that  Colonel  Mahon  would  certainly  shoot  me  when  I  got 
back." 

' '  And  you  replied  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  I  made  any  reply  at  the  time,  sir." 

"  But  you  thought,  sir,  —  what  were  your  thoughts  ?  " 

"  I  thought  it  very  like  what  I'd  have  done  mj^self  in  a 
like  case,  although  certain  to  be  sorry  for  it  afterwards." 

Whether  the  emotion  had  been  one  for  some  time  previous 


A  SCRAPE   AND  ITS   CONSEQUENCES.  105 

restrained,  or  that  my  last  words  had  provoked  it  suddenly, 
I  cannot  tell,  but  the  lady  here  burst  out  into  a  fit  of  laugh- 
ter, which  was  as  suddenly  checked  by  some  sharp  obsei'\"a- 
tion  of  the  colonel,  whose  stern  features  grew  sterner  and 
darker  every  moment. 

''There  we  differ,  sir,"  said  he,  "for  I  should  not."  At 
the  same  instant  he  pushed  his  plate  away,  to  make  room 
on  the  table  for  a  small  portfolio,  opening  which,  he  pre- 
pared to  write. 

"You  will  bring  this  paper,"  continued  he,  "to  the 
'Prev6t  Marshal.'  To-morrow  morning  you  shall  be  tried 
by  a  regimental  court-martial,  and  as  your  sentence  may 
probably  be  the  galleys  and  hard  labor  — " 

"  I  '11  save  them  the  trouble,"  said  I,  quietly  drawing  my 
sword ;  but  scarcely  was  it  clear  of  the  scabbard  when  a 
shriek  broke  from  the  lady,  who  possibly  knew  not  the 
object  of  my  act ;  at  the  same  instant  the  colonel  bounded 
across  the  chamber,  and  striking  me  a  severe  blow  upon  the 
arm  dashed  the  weapon  from  my  hand  to  the  ground. 

"  You  want  the  fusillade^  —  is  that  what  you  want?  "  cried 
he,  as  in  a  towering  fit  of  passion  he  dragged  me  forward 
to  the  light.  I  was  now  standing  close  to  the  table ;  the 
lady  raised  her  eyes  towards  me,  and  at  once  broke  out  into 
a  burst  of  laughter,  —  such  hearty,  merry  laughter,  that, 
even  with  the  fear  of  death  before  me,  I  could  almost  have 
joined  in  it. 

"What  is  it, —  what  do  you  mean,  Laure?"  cried  the 
colonel,  angrily. 

"  Don't  you  see  it?  "  said  she,  still  holding  her  kerchief  to 
her  face,  —  "  can't  you  perceive  it  yourself?  He  has  only 
one  mustache !  " 

I  turned  hastily  towards  the  mirror  beside  me,  and  there 
was  the  fatal  fact  revealed,  —  one  gallant  curl  disported 
proudly  over  the  left  cheek,  while  the  other  was  left  bare. 

"  Is  the  fellow  mad,  —  a  mountebank?  "  said  the  colonel, 
whose  anger  was  now  at  its  white  heat. 

"Neither,  sir,"  said  I,  tearing  off  my  remaining  mustache, 
in  shame  and  passion  together.  "  Among  my  other  misfor- 
tunes I  have  that  of  being  young ;  and  what 's  worse,  I  was 
ashamed  of  it ;  but  I  begin  to  see  my  error,  and  know  that 


106  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

a  man  may  be  old  without  gaining  either  in  dignity  or 
temper." 

With  a  stroke  of  his  closed  fist  upon  the  table,  the  colonel 
made  every  glass  and  decanter  spring  from  theii'  places, 
while  he  uttered  an  oath  that  was  only  current  in  the  days 
of  that  army.  "  This  is  beyond  belief,"  cried  he.  "  Come, 
gredin,  you  have  at  least  had  one  piece  of  good  fortune,  — 
you've  fallen  precisely  into  the  hands  of  one  who  can  deal 
with  you.     Your  regiment?" 

"  The  Ninth  Hussars." 

' '  Your  name  ?  " 

"Tiernay." 

' '  Tiernay  !  that 's  not  a  French  name  ?  " 

"  Not  originally  ;  we  were  Irish  once." 

"Irish,"  said  he,  in  a  different  tone  from  what  he  had 
hitherto  used.  "  Any  relative  of  a  certain  Comte  Maurice 
de  Tierna}^,  who  once  served  in  the  Royal  Guard?  " 

"  His  son,  sir." 

"  What !  his  son  !  Art  certain  of  this,  lad?  You  remem- 
ber your  mother's  name  then  :  what  was  it?  " 

"  I  never  knew  which  was  my  mother,"  said  I,  —  "  Made- 
moiselle de  la  Lasterie  or  —  " 

He  did  not  suffer  me  to  finish,  but  throwing  his  arms 
around  my  neck,  pressed  me  to  his  bosom. 

"You  are  little  Maurice,  then,"  said  he,  "  the  son  of  my 
old  and  valued  comrade  !  Only  think  of  it,  Laure,  — I  was 
that  boy's  godfather !  " 

Here  was  a  sudden  change  in  my  fortunes !  nor  was  it 
without  a  great  effort  that  I  could  credit  the  reality  of  it,  as 
I  saw  mj^self  seated  between  the  colonel  and  his  fair  com- 
panion, both  of  whom  overwhelmed  me  with  attention.  It 
turned  out  that  Colonel  Mahon  had  been  a  fellow-guards- 
man with  my  father,  for  whom  he  had  ever  preserved  the 
warmest  attachment.  One  of  the  few  sui-vivors  of  the 
Garde  du  Corps,  he  had  taken  sei'^ice  with  the  Republic,  and 
was  already  reputed  as  one  of  the  most  distinguished  cavalry 
oflScers. 

"  Strange  enough,  Maurice,"  said  he  to  me,  "  there  was 
something  in  your  look  and  manner,  as  you  spoke  to  me 
there,  that  recalled  your  poor  father  to  my  memory ;    and 


A  SCRAPE  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.      107 

without  knowing  or  suspecting  why,  I  suffered  you  to  bandy 
words  with  me,  while  at  another  moment  I  would  have 
ordered  you  to  be  ironed  and  sent  to  prison." 

Of  my  mother,  of  whom  I  wished  much  to  learn  something, 
he  would  not  speak,  but  adroitly  changed  the  conversation  to 
the  subject  of  my  own  adventures,  and  these  he  made  me 
recount  from  the  beginning.  If  the  lady  enjoyed  all  the 
absurdities  of  my  checkered  fortune  with  a  keen  sense  of  the 
ridiculous,  the  colonel  apparently  could  trace  in  them  but  so 
many  resemblances  to  my  father's  character,  and  constantly 
broke  out  into  exclamations  of,  "  How  like  him!"  "Just 
what  he  would  have  done  himself  !  "  "  His  own  very  words  !  " 
and  so  on. 

It  was  only  in  a  pause  of  the  conversation,  as  the  clock  on 
the  mantelpiece  struck  eleven,  that  I  was  aware  of  the  late- 
ness of  the  hour,  and  remembered  that  I  should  be  on  the 
punishment-roll  the  next  morning  for  absence  from  quarters. 

"  Never  fret  about  that,  Maurice,  I  '11  return  your  name  as 
on  a  special  service ;  and  to  have  the  benefit  of  truth  on  our 
side,  you  shall  be  named  one  of  my  orderlies,  with  the  grade 
of  corporal." 

"  Wh}"  not  make  him  a  sous-lieutenant?  "  said  the  lady,  in 
a  half-whisper.  "  I  'm  sure  he  is  better  worth  his  epaulettes 
than  any  I  have  seen  on  your  staff." 

"Nay,  nay,"  muttered  the  colonel,  "  the  rules  of  the  ser- 
vice forbid  it.  He'll  win  his  spurs  time  enough,  or  I'm 
much  mistaken." 

While  I  thanked  my  new  and  kind  patron  for  his  good- 
ness, I  could  not  help  saying  that  my  heart  was  eagerly  set 
upon  the  prospect  of  actual  service ;  and  that  proud  as  I 
should  be  of  his  protection,  I  would  rather  merit  it  by  my 
conduct  than  owe  my  advancement  to  favor. 

' '  Which  simply  means  that  you  are  tired  of  Nancy,  and 
riding  drill,  and  want  to  see  how  men  comport  themselves 
where  the  manoeuvres  are  not  arranged  beforehand.  Well, 
so  far  you  are  right,  boy.  I  shall,  in  all  likelihood,  be 
stationed  here  for  three  or  four  months,  during  which  you 
might  have  advanced  a  stage  or  so  towards  those  epaulettes 
my  fair  friend  desires  to  see  upon  your  shoulders.  You  shall, 
therefore,  be  sent  forward  to  your  own  corps.     I  '11  write  to 


108  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

the  colonel  to  confirm  the  rank  of  corporal ;  the  regiment  is 
at  present  on  the  Moselle ;  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  will  soon 
be  actively  employed.  Come  to  me  to-morrow  before  noon, 
and  be  prepared  to  march  with  the  first  detachments  that  are 
sent  foi*ward." 

A  cordial  shake  of  the  hand  followed  these  words ;  and 
the  lady  having  also  vouchsafed  me  an  equal  token  of  her 
good-will,  I  took  my  leave,  the  happiest  fellow  that  ever 
betook  himself  to  quarters  after  houi'S,  and  as  indifferent  to 
the  penalties  annexed  to  the  breach  of  discipline  as  if  the 
whole  code  of  martial  law  were  a  mere  fable. 


CHAPTER   X. 

AN    AKISTOCRATIC    REPUBLICAN. 

If  the  worthy  reader  would  wish  to  fancy  the  happiest  of  all 
youthful  beings,  let  him  imagine  what  I  must  have  been,  as, 
mounted  upon  Aleppo,  a  present  from  my  godfather,  with  a 
purse  of  six  shining  louis  in  my  pocket  and  a  letter  to  my 
colonel,  I  set  forth  for  Metz.  I  had  breakfasted  with 
Colonel  Mahon,  who,  amid  much  good  advice  for  my  future 
guidance,  gave  me,  half  slyly,  to  understand  that  the  days  of 
Jacobinism  had  almost  run  theii'  coui'se,  and  that  a  re- 
actionary movement  had  already  set  in.  The  Republic,  he 
added,  was  as  strong,  perhaps  stronger,  than  ever,  but  that 
men  had  grown  weary  of  mob  tyranny,  and  were  day  by  day 
reverting  to  the  old  loyalty,  —  in  respect  for  whatever  pre- 
tended to  culture,  good  breeding,  and  superior  intelligence. 
*' As,  in  a  shipwreck,  the  crew  instinctively  turn  for  counsel 
and  du-ection  to  the  officers,  you  will  see  that  France  will, 
notwithstanding  all  the  libertinism  of  our  age,  place  her  con- 
fidence in  the  men  who  have  been  the  tried  and  worthy  ser- 
vants of  former  governments.  So  far  then  from  suffering  on 
account  of  your  gentle  blood,  Maurice,  the  time  is  not  distant 
when  it  will  do  you  good  service ;  and  when  every  associa- 
tion that  links  you  with  family  and  fortune  will  be  deemed  an 
additional  guarantee  of  your  good  conduct.  I  mention  these 
things,"  continued  he,  "  because  your  colonel  is  what  they 
call  a  '  Grosbleu,'  —  that  is,  a  coarse-minded,  inveterate 
republican,  detesting  aristocracy  and  all  that  belongs  to  it. 
Take  care,  therefore,  to  give  him  no  just  cause  for  discon- 
tent, but  be  just  as  steady  in  maintaining  your  position  as 
the  descendant  of  a  noble  house,  who  has  not  forgotten  what 
were  once  the  privileges  of  his  rank.  Write  to  me  frequently 
and  freely,  and  I  '11  take  care  that  you  want  for  nothing,  so 
far  as  my  small  means  go,  to  sustain  whatever  grade  you 
occupy.     Your   own  conduct   shall   decide  whether  I   ever 


110  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

desii'e  to  have  any  other  inheritor  than  the  son  of  my  oldest 
friend  in  the  world." 

Such  were  his  last  words  to  me,  as  I  set  forth  in  company 
with  a  large  party,  consisting,  for  the  most  part,  of  under 
officers  and  employes  attached  to  the  medical  staff  of  the 
army.  It  was  a  very  joyous  and  merry  fraternity,  and,  con- 
sisting of  ingredients  drawn  from  different  pursuits  and  arms 
of  the  service,  infinitely  amusing  from  contrast  of  character 
and  habits.  My  chief  associate  amongst  them  was  a  young 
sous-lieutenant  of  dragoons,  whose  age,  scarcely  much  above 
my  own,  joined  to  a  joyous,  reckless  temperament,  soon 
pointed  him  out  as  the  character  to  suit  me.  His  name  was 
Eugene  Santron.  In  appearance  he  was  slightly  formed, 
and  somewhat  under-sized,  but  with  handsome  features,  their 
animation  rendered  sparkling  by  two  of  the  wickedest  black 
eyes  that  ever  glistened  and  glittered  in  a  human  head.  I 
soon  saw  that  under  the  mask  of  affected  fraternity  and 
equality  he  nourished  the  most  profound  contempt  for  the 
greater  number  of  his  associates,  who,  in  truth,  were,  how- 
ever braves  gens,  the  very  roughest  and  least-polished  speci- 
mens of  the  polite  nation.  In  all  his  intercourse  with  them, 
Eugene  affected  the  easiest  tone  of  camaraderie  and  equality, 
never  assuming  in  the  slightest,  nor  making  any  pretensions 
to  the  least  superiority  on  the  score  of  position  or  acquke- 
ments,  but  on  the  whole  consoling  himself,  as  it  were,  by 
"  pla^'ing  them  off"  in  then- several  eccentricities,  and  ren- 
dering every  trait  of  their  vulgarity  and  ignorance  tributary 
to  his  own  amusement.  Partly  from  seeing  that  he  made  me 
an  exception  to  this  practice,  and  partly  from  his  perceiving  the 
amusement  it  afforded  me,  we  drew  closer  towards  each  other, 
and  before  many  days  elapsed  had  become  sworn  friends. 

There  is  probably  no  feature  of  character  so  very  attrac- 
tive to  a  young  man  as  frankness.  The  most  artful  of  all 
flatteri^es  is  that  which  addresses  itself  by  candor,  and  seems 
at  once  to  select,  as  it  were  by  intuition,  the  object  most 
suited  for  a  confidence.  Santron  carried  me  by  a  coi/p  cle 
main  of  this  kind,  as  taking  my  arm  one  evening,  as  I  was 
strolling  along  the  banks  of  the  Moselle,  he  said,  — 

"My  dear  Maurice,  it's  very  easy  to  see  that  the  society 
of  our  excellent  friends  yonder  is  just  as  distasteful  to  you 
as  to  me.     One  cannot  always  be  satisfied  laughing  at  their 


AN  ARISTOCRATIC   REPUBLICAN.  HI 

solecisms  in  breeding  and  propriety.  One  grows  weary  at 
last  of  ridiculing  theii'  thousand  absurdities ;  and  then  there 
comes  the  terrible  retribution  in  the  reflection  of  w^hat  the 
devil  brought  me  into  such  company,  —  a  question  that, 
however  easily  answered,  grows  more  and  more  intolerable 
the  oftener  it  is  asked.  To  be  sure,  in  my  case  there  was 
little  choice  in  the  matter,  for  I  was  not  in  any  way  the 
arbiter  of  my  own  fortune.  I  saw  myself  converted  from  a 
royal  page  to  a  printer's  devil  by  a  kind  old  fellow,  who 
saved  my  life  by  smearing  my  face  with  ink,  and  covering 
my  scarlet  uniform  with  a  filthy  blouse ;  and  since  that  da}^ 
I  have  taken  the  hint,  and  often  found  the  lesson  a  good 
one,  —  the  du-tier  the  safer ! 

' '  We  were  of  the  old  nobility  of  France ;  but  as  the  name 
of  our  family  was  the  cause  of  its  extinction,  I  took  care  to 
change  it.  I  see  you  don't  clearly  comprehend  me,  and  so 
I'll  explain  myself  better.  My  father  lived  unmolested 
dui'ing  the  earlier  days  of  the  Revolution,  and  might  so  have 
continued  to  the  end  if  a  detachment  of  the  Garde  Republi- 
caine  had  not  been  despatched  to  our  neighborhood  of  Sarre 
Louis,  where  it  was  supposed  some  lurking  regard  for  royalty 
yet  lingered.  These  fellows  neither  knew  nor  cared  for  the 
ancient  noblesse  of  the  country,  and  one  evening  a  patrol  of 
them  stopped  my  father  as  he  was  taking  his  evening  walk 
along  the  ramparts.  He  would  scarcely  deign  to  notice  the 
insolent  '  Qui  va  la  ? '  of  the  sentry,  a  summons  he  at  least 
thought  superfluous  in  a  town  which  had  known  his  ancestry 
for  eight  or  nine  generations.  At  the  repetition  of  the  cry, 
accompanied  by  something  that  sounded  ominous,  in  the 
sharp  click  of  a  gun-lock,  he  replied  haughtily,  — 

"  '  Je  suis  le  Marquis  de  Saint-Trone.' 

"'There  are  no  more  Marquises  in  France!'  was  the 
savage  answer. 

"  My  father  smiled  contemptuously,  and  briefly  said 
'  Saint-Trone.' 

"  '  We  have  no  Saints  either,'  cried  another. 

"'Be  it  so,  my  friend,'  said  he,  with  mingled  pity  and 
disgust.  '  I  suppose  some  designation  may  at  least  be  left 
to  me,  and  that  I  may  call  myself  Trone.' 

"  '  We  are  done  with  thrones  long  ago,'  shouted  they  in 
chorus,  '  and  we'll  finish  you  also.' 


112  MAURICE  TIERXAY. 

"  Ay,  and  they  kept  their  word,  too.  They  shot  hhn  that 
same  evening,  on  very  little  other  charge  than  his  own 
name !  If  I  have  retained  the  old  sound  of  my  name  I  have 
given  it  a  more  plebeian  spelling,  which  is,  perhaps,  just  as 
much  of  an  alteration  as  any  man  need  submit  to  for  a 
period  that  will  pass  away  so  soon." 

"How  so,  Eugene?  You  fancy  the  Republic  will  not 
endure  in  France?     What,  then,  can  replace  it?" 

"  Anything,  everything  ;  for  the  future  all  is  possible.  We 
have  annihilated  legitimacy,  it  is  true,  just  as  the  Indians 
destroy  a  forest,  by  burning  the  trees ;  but  the  roots  remain, 
and  if  the  soil  is  incapable  of  sending  up  the  giant  stems  as 
before,  it  is  equally  unable  to  furnish  a  new  and  different 
culture.  Monarchy  is  just  as  firmly  rooted  in  a  Frenchman's 
heart;  but  he  will  have  neither  patience  for  its  tedious 
growth,  nor  can  he  submit  to  restore  what  has  cost  him  so 
dearly  to  destroy.  The  consequences  will  therefore  be  a 
long  and  continued  struggle  between  parties,  each  imposing 
upon  the  nation  the  form  of  government  that  pleases  it  in 
turn.  Meanwhile  you  and  I,  and  others  like  us,  must  serxe 
whatever  is  uppermost :  the  cleverest  fellow  he  who  sees  the 
coming  change,  and  prepares  to  take  advantage  of  it." 

"  Then  are  you  a  Royalist?  "  asked  I. 

' '  A  Royalist !  What !  stand  by  a  monarch  who  deserted 
his  aristocracy  and  forgot  his  own  order ;  defend  a  throne 
that  he  had  reduced  to  the  condition  of  a  fauteuil  de 
Bourgeois?  " 

"  You  are  then  for  the  Republic?  " 

"  For  what  robbed  me  of  my  inheritance,  what  degraded 
me  from  my  rank,  and  reduced  me  to  a  state  below  that  of 
my  own  vassals,  —  is  this  a  cause  to  uphold?  " 

"You  are  satisfied  with  military  glory,  perhaps,"  said  I, 
scarcely  knowing  what  form  of  faith  to  attribute  to  him. 

"In  an  army  where  my  superiors  are  the  very  dregs  of  the 
people !  where  the  canaille  have  the  command,  and  the  chiv- 
alry of  France  is  represented  by  a  sans-culotte !  " 

"  The  cause  of  the  Church  —  " 

A  burst  of  ribald  laughter  cut  me.  short,  and  laying  his 
hand  on  my  shoulder  he  looked  me  full  in  the  face,  while 
with  a  struggle  to  recover  his  gravity  he  said,  — 


AN  ARISTOCRATIC   REPUBLICAN.  113 

"  I  hope,  my  dear  Maurice,  you  are  not  serious,  and  tiiat 
you  do  not  mean  this  for  earnest!  Why,  my  dear  boy, 
don't  you  talk  of  the  Eleusinian  Mysteries,  the  Delphic 
Oracle,  of  Alchemy,  Astrology,  —  of  anything,  in  short,  of 
which  the  world,  having  amused  itself,  has  at  length  gi'own 
weary?  Can't  you  see  that  the  Chui-ch  has  passed  away, 
and  these  good  priests  have  gone  the  same  road  as  their 
predecessors  ?  Is  any  acuteness  wanting  to  show  that  there 
is  an  end  of  this  superstition  that  has  enthi^alled  men's  minds 
for  a  couple  of  thousand  years?  No,  no  !  their  game  is  up, 
and  forever.  These  pious  men,  who  despised  this  world, 
and  yet  had  no  other  hold  upon  the  minds  of  others  than  by 
the  very  craft  and  subtlety  that  world  taught  them ;  these 
heavenly  souls,  whose  whole  machinations  revolved  about 
earthy  objects  and  the  successes  of  this  grovelling  planet,  — 
fight  for  them  !  No,  parfjleit !  we  owe  them  but  little  love  or 
affection.  Their  whole  aim  in  life  has  been  to  disgust  one 
with  whatever  is  enjoyable ;  and  the  best  boon  they  have 
conferred  upon  humanity  is  the  bright  thought  of  locking  up 
the  softest  eyes  and  fairest  cheeks  of  France  in  cloisters  and 
nunneries !  I  can  forgive  our  glorious  Revolution  much  of 
its  wrong  when  I  think  of  the  Pretre,  —  not  but  that  they 
could  have  knocked  down  the  church  without  suffering  the 
ruins  to  crush  the  chMeau !  " 

Such,  in  brief,  were  the  opinions  my  companion  held,  and 
of  which  I  was  accustomed  to  hear  specimens  every  day,  — 
at  first,  with  displeasure  and  repugnance  ;  later  on,  with  more 
of  toleration ;  and  at  last,  with  a  sense  of  amusement  at 
the  singularity  of  his  notions  or  the  dexterity  with  which 
he  defended  them.  The  poison  of  his  doctrines  was  the 
more  insidious,  because  mingled  with  a  certain  dash  of  good 
nature  and  a  reckless,  careless  easiness  of  disposition  always 
attractive  to  very  young  men.  His  reputation  for  courage, 
of  which  he  had  given  signal  proofs,  elevated  him  in  my 
esteem ;  and,  ere  long,  all  my  misgivings  about  him,  in  regard 
of  certain  blemishes,  gave  way  before  my  admiration  of  his 
heroic  bearing  and  a  readiness  to  confront  peril,  wherever 
to  be  found. 

I  had  made  him  the  confidant  of  my  own  history,  of  which 
I  told  him  everything,  save  the  passages  which  related  to  the 


114  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

P^re  Michel.  These  I  either  entirely  glossed  over,  or  touched 
so  lightly  as  to  render  unimportant,  —  a  dread  of  ridicule 
restraining  me  from  any  mention  of  those  earlier  scenes  of 
my  life,  which  were  alone  of  all  those  I  should  have  avowed 
with  -pride.  Perhaps  it  was  from  mere  accident,  perhaps 
some  secret  shame  to  conceal  my  forlorn  and  destitute  con- 
dition may  have  had  its  share  in  the  motive ;  but,  for  some 
cause  or  other,  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  my  acquaint- 
ance with  Colonel  Mahon  had  dated  back  to  a  much  earlier 
period  than  a  few  days  before,  and,  the  impression  once 
made,  a  sense  of  false  shame  led  me  to  support  it. 

"  Mahon  can  be  a  good  friend  to  you,"  said  Eugene  ;  "he 
stands  well  with  all  parties.  The  Convention  trust  him,  the 
sans-culottes  are  afraid  of  him,  and  the  few  men  of  family 
whom  the  guillotine  has  left  look  up  to  him  as  one  of  their 
stanchest  adherents.  Depend  upon  it,  therefore,  youi*  pro- 
motion is  safe  enough,  even  if  there  were  not  a  field  open  for 
every  man  who  seeks  the  path  to  eminence.  The  great 
point,  however,  is  to  get  service  with  the  army  of  Italy. 
These  campaigns  here  are  as  barren  and  profitless  as  the  soil 
they  are  fought  over ;  but  in  the  south,  Maurice,  in  the  land 
of  dark  eyes  and  tresses,  under  the  blue  skies,  or  beneath  the 
trellised  vines,  there  are  rewards  of  victory  more  glorious 
than  a  grateful  counti-y,  as  they  call  it,  ever  bestowed. 
Never  forget,  my  boy,  that  you  or  I  have  no  cause !  It  is 
to  us  a  matter  of  indifference  what  party  triumphs,  or  who 
is  uppermost.  The  government  may  change  to-morrow,  and 
the  day  after,  and  so  on  for  a  month  long,  and  yet  we  re- 
main just  as  we  were.  Monarchy,  Commonwealth,  Democ- 
racy—  what  you  will  —  may  rule  the  hour,  but  the  sous- 
lieutenant  is  but  the  ser^^aut  who  changes  his  master.  Now, 
in  revenge  for  all  this,  we  have  one  compensation,  which  is 
to  '  live  for  the  day,'  —  to  make  the  most  of  that  brief 
hour  of  sunshine  granted  us,  and  to  taste  of  every  pleas- 
ure, to  mingle  in  every  dissipation,  and  enjoy  every  excite- 
ment that  we  can.  This  is  my  philosophy,  Maurice,  and 
just  try  it." 

Such  was  the  companion  with  whom  chance  threw  me  in 
contact,  and  I  grieve  to  think  how  rapidly  his  influence 
gained  the  mastery  over  me. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

''the    passage    of    the    RHINE." 

I  PARTED  from  my  friend  Eugene  at  Treves,  where  he  re- 
mained in  garrison,  while  I  was  sent  forward  to  Coblentz 
to  join  my  regiment,  at  that  time  forming  part  of  Ney's 
division. 

Were  I  to  adhere  in  my  narrative  to  the  broad  current  of 
great  events,  I  should  here  have  to  speak  of  that  grand  scheme 
of  tactics  by  which  Kleber,  advancing  from  the  Lower  Rhine, 
engaged  the  attention  of  the  Austrian  Grand  Duke,  in  order 
to  give  time  and  opportunity  for  Hoche's  passage  of  the  river 
at  Strasbourg,  and  the  commencement  of  that  campaign  which 
had  for  its  object  the  subjugation  of  Germany.  I  have  not, 
however,  the  pretension  to  chronicle  those  passages  which 
history  has  forever  made  memorable,  even  were  my  own 
share  in  them  of  a  more  distinguished  character.  The  insig- 
nificance of  my  station  must,  therefore,  be  my  apology  if  I 
turn  from  the  description  of  great  and  eventful  incidents  to 
the  humble  narrative  of  my  own  career. 

Whatever  the  contents  of  Colonel  Mahon's  letter,  they  did 
not  plead  very  favorably  for  me  with  Colonel  Hacque,  my 
new  commanding  officer ;  neither,  to  all  seeming,  did  my  own 
appearance  weigh  anything  in  my  favor.  Raising  his  eyes  at 
intervals  from  the  letter  to  stare  at  me,  he  uttered  some  bro- 
ken phrases  of  discontent  and  displeasure  ;   at  last  he  said,  — 

"What's  the  object  of  this  letter,  sir;  to  what  end  have 
you  presented  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  As  I  am  ignorant  of  its  contents,  mon  Colonel^"  said  I, 
calmly,  "  I  can  scarcely  answer  the  question." 

"  Well,  sir,  it  informs  me  that  you  are  the  son  of  a  certain 
Count  Tiernay,  who  has  long  since  paid  the  price  of  his 
nobility ;  and  that  being  an  especial  prote'ge  of  the  writer, 


116  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

he  takes  occasion  to  present  you  to  me ;  now  I  ask  again, 
with  what  object?" 

"  I  presume,  su",  to  obtain  for  me  the  honor  which  I  now 
enjoy,  --to  become  personally  known  to  you." 

"  I  know  every  soldier  under  my  command,  sii',"  said  he, 
rebukingly ;  "as  you  will  soon  learn  if  you  remain  in  my 
regiment.  I  have  no  need  of  recommendatory  letters  on  that 
score.  As  to  your  grade  of  corporal,  it  is  not  confirmed ; 
time  enough  when  youY  sendees  shall  have  shown  that  you 
deserve  promotion.  Parhleu  !  sii',  you  '11  have  to  show  other 
claims  than  your  ci-devant  countship." 

"Colonel  Mahon  gave  me  a  horse,  sir;  may  I  be  per- 
mitted to  retain  him  as  a  regimental  mount?"  asked  I, 
timidly. 

"  We  want  horses  —  what  is  he  like  ?  " 

"  Thi'ee-quarters  Arab,  and  splendid  in  action,  su\" 

"  Then,  of  course,  unfit  for  senice  and  field  manoeuvres. 
Send  him  to  the  Etat  Major.  The  Republic  will  find  a  fitting 
mount  for  you ;  you  may  retire." 

And  I  did  retire,  with  a  heart  almost  bursting  between 
anger  and  disappointment.  What  a  future  did  this  opening 
present  to  me  !  What  a  realization  this  of  all  my  flattering 
hopes ! 

This  sudden  reverse  of  fortune,  for  it  was  nothing  less,  did 
not  render  me  more  disposed  to  make  the  best  of  m}-  new 
condition,  nor  see  in  the  most  pleasing  light  the  rough  and 
rude  fraternity  among  which  I  was  thrown.  The  Ninth 
Hussars  were  reputed  to  be  an  excellent  service-corps,  but, 
off  duty,  contained  some  of  the  worst  ingredients  of  the 
army.  Play,  and  its  consequence  duelling,  filled  up  every 
hour  not  devoted  to  regimental  dut}^ ;  and  low  as  the  tone  of 
manners  and  morals  stood  in  the  sei'vice  generally,  "  Hacque's 
Tapageurs,"  as  they  were  called,  enjoj^ed  the  unflattering 
distinction  of  being  the  leaders.  Self-respect  was  a  quality 
utterly  unknown  amongst  them,  —  none  felt  ashamed  at  the 
disgrace  of  punishment ;  and  as  all  knew  that  at  the  approach 
of  the  enemy  prison-doors  would  open  and  handcuffs  fall  off, 
they  affected  to  think  the  Salle  de  Police  was  a  pleasant 
alternative  to  the  fatigue  and  worry  of  duty.  These  habits 
not  only  stripped  soldiering  of  all  its  chivalry,  but  robbed 


UNIVERSITY  j 

*^^£4ki^§^^^THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  RHINE."  117 

freedom  itself  of  all  its  nobility.  These  men  saw  nothing  but 
licentiousness  in  their  newly-won  liberty.  Their  "  Equality  '* 
was  the  permission  to  bring  everything  down  to  a  base  and 
unworthy  standard;  their  "Fraternity,"  the  appropriation 
of  what  belonged  to  one  richer  than  themselves. 

It  would  give  me  little  pleasure  to  recount,  and  the  reader 
in  all  likelihood  as  little  to  hear,  the  details  of  my  life  among 
such  associates.  They  are  the  passages  of  my  history  most 
painful  to  recall,  and  least  worthy  of  being  remembered ; 
nor  can  I  even  yet  write  without  shame  the  confession  how 
rapidly  their  habits  became  my  own.  Eugene's  teachings 
had  prepared  me,  in  a  manner,  for  their  lessons.  His  scep- 
ticism, extending  to  everything  and  every  one,  had  made  me 
distrustful  of  all  friendship,  and  suspicious  of  whatever 
appeared  a  kindness.  Vulgar  association  and  daily  inti- 
macy with  coarsely-minded  men  soon  finished  what  he  had 
begun ;  and  in  less  time  than  it  took  me  to  break  my  troop- 
horse  to  regimental  drill,  I  had  been  myself  "  broke  in"  to 
every  vice  and  abandoned  habit  of  my  companions. 

It  was  not  in  my  nature  to  do  things  by  halves ;  and  thus 
I  became,  and  in  a  brief  space  too,  the  most  inveterate 
Tapageur  of  the  whole  regiment.  There  was  not  a  wild 
prank  or  plot  in  which  I  was  not  foremost,  not  a  breach 
of  discipline  unaccompanied  by  my  name  or  presence ;  and 
more  than  half  the  time  of  our  march  to  meet  the  enemy, 
I  passed  in  double  irons  under  the  guard  of  the  Provost- 
marshal. 

It  was  at  this  pleasant  stage  of  my  education  that  our 
brigade  arrived  at  Strasbourg,  as  part  of  the  corj)s  cVarmee 
under  the  command  of  General  Moreau. 

He  had  just  succeeded  to  the  command  on  the  dismissal  of 
Pichegru,  and  found  the  army  not  only  dispirited  by  the 
defeats  of  the  past  campaign,  but  in  a  state  of  rudest  indis- 
cipline and  disorganization.  If  left  to  himself,  he  would  have 
trusted  much  to  time  and  circumstances  for  the  reform  of 
abuses  that  had  been  the  growth  of  many  months  long.  But 
Regnier,  the  second  in  command,  was  made  of  "  different 
stuff ;  "  he  was  a  harsh  and  stern  disciplinarian,  who  rarely 
forgave  a  first  and  never  a  second  offence,  and  who,  deem- 
ing the  Salle  de  Police  as  an  incumbrance  to  an  army  on 


118  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

service,  which  besides  requii-ed  a  guard  of  picked  men  that 
might  be  better  employed  elsewhere,  usually  gave  the  prefer- 
ence to  the  shorter  sentence  of  "  foui^  paces  and  a  fusillade." 
Nor  was  he  i^articular  in  the  classification  of  those  crimes  he 
thus  expiated :  from  the  most  trivial  excess  to  the  wildest 
scheme  of  insubordination,  all  came  under  the  one  category. 
More  than  once,  as  we  drew  near  to  Strasbourg,  I  heard  the 
project  of  a  mutiny  discussed,  day  after  day.  Some  one  or 
other  would  denounce  the  "  sce7eVa?  Regnier,"  and  proclaim 
his  readiness  to  be  the  executioner ;  but  the  closer  we  di'ew 
to  head-quarters  the  more  hushed  and  subdued  became  these 
mutterings,  till  at  last  they  ceased  altogether,  and  a  dark 
and  foreboding  dread  succeeded  to  all  oui'  late  boastings  and 
denunciations. 

This  at  first  surprised  and  then  utterly  disgusted  me  with 
my  companions.  Brave  as  they  were  before  the  enemy,  had 
they  no  courage  for  their  own  countrymen?  Was  all  their 
valor  the  offspring  of  security,  or  could  they  only  be 
rebellious  when  the  penalty  had  no  terrors  for  them  ?  Alas  ! 
I  was  very  young,  and  did  not  then  know  that  men  are  never 
strong  against  the  right,  and  that  a  bad  cause  is  always  a 
weak  one. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  June  when  we  reached  Stras- 
bourg, where  now  about  fort}'  thousand  troops  were  assembled. 
I  shall  not  readily  forget  the  mingled  astonishment  and  disap- 
pointment our  appearance  excited  as  the  regiment  entered  the 
town.  The  Tapageurs,  so  celebrated  for  all  theii"  terrible  ex- 
cesses and  insubordination,  were  seen  to  be  a  fine  corps  of 
soldier-like  fellows,  their  horses  in  high  condition,  their  equip- 
ments and  arms  in  the  very  best  order.  Neither  did  our  con- 
duct at  all  tally  with  the  reputation  that  preceded  us.  All 
was  orderly  and  regular  in  the  several  billets  ;  the  parade  was 
particularly  observed ;  not  a  man  late  at  the  night  muster. 
What  was  the  cause  of  this  sudden  and  remarkable  change  ? 
Some  said  that  we  were  marching  against  the  enemy  ;  but  the 
real  explanation  lay  in  the  few  words  of  a  general  order  read 
to  us  by  our  colonel  the  day  before  we  entered  the  city :  — 

The  Ninth  Hussars  have  obtained  the  unworthy  reputation 
of  being  an  ill-disciplined  and  ill-conducted  regiment,  relying 
upon    their    soldier-like    qualities    in    face    of   the    enemy    to 


"THE  PASSAGE   OF  THE   RHINE."  119 

cover  the  disgrace  of  their  misconduct  in  quarters.  This  is 
a  mistake  that  must  be  corrected.  All  Frenchmen  are  brave : 
none  can  arrogate  to  themselves  any  prerogative  of  valor.  If 
any  wish  to  establish  such  a  belief,  a  campaign  can  always  attest 
it.  If  any  profess  to  think  so  without  such  proof,  and,  acting  in 
conformity  with  this  impression,  disobey  their  orders  or  infrmge 
regimental  discipline,  I  will  have  them  shot. 

Regnier, 
Adjutant-General. 

This  was,  at  least,  a  very  straightfoi-ward  and  intelligible 
announcement,  and  as  such  my  comrades  generally  ac- 
knowledged it.  I,  however,  regarded  it  as  a  piece  of 
monstrous  and  intolerable  tyranny,  and  sought  to  make 
converts  to  my  opinion  by  declaiming  about  the  rights  of 
Frenchmen,  the  liberty  of  free  discussion,  the  glorious 
privilege  of  equality,  and  so  on;  but  these  arguments 
sounded  faint  in  presence  of  the  drum-head,  and  while 
some  slunk  away  from  the  cii'cle  around  me,  others  signifi- 
cantly hinted  that  they  would  accept  no  part  of  the  danger 
my  doctrines  might  originate. 

However  I  might  have  respected  my  comrades  had  they 
been  always  the  well-disciplined  body  I  now  saw  them,  I 
confess  that  this  sudden  conversion  from  fear  was  in  nowise 
to  my  taste,  and  rashly  confounded  then*  dread  of  punish- 
ment with  abase  and  ignoble  fear  of  death.  "And  these 
are  the  men,"  thought  I,  "  who  talk  of  their  charging  home 
through  the  dense  squares  of  Austria !  who  have  hunted  the 
leopard  into  the  sea !  and  have  carried  the  flag  of  France 
over  the  high  Alps !  " 

A  bold  rebel,  whatever  may  be  the  cause  against  which  he 
revolts,  will  always  be  sui'e  of  a  certain  ascendancy.  Men 
are  prone  to  attribute  power  to  pretension,  and  he  who  stands 
foremost  in  the  breach  will  at  least  win  the  suffrages  of  those 
whose  cause  he  assumes  to  defend.  In  this  way  it  happened 
that  exactly  as  my  comrades  fell  in  my  esteem,  I  was 
elevated  in  theirs ;  and  while  I  took  a  very  depreciating 
estimate  of  their  courage,  they  conceived  a  very  exalted 
opinion  of  mine. 

It  was  altogether  inexplicable  to  see  these  men  —  many 
of  them  the   bronzed   veterans  of   a  dozen  campaigns,  the 


120  MAURICE    TIERXAY. 

"wounded  and  distinguished  soldiers  in  many  a  hard-fought 
field  —  yielding  up  theii'  opinions  and  sacrificing  their  con- 
yictions  to  a  raw  and  untiied  stripling  who  had  neyer  yet 
seen  an  enemy. 

With  a  certain  fluency  of  speech  I  possessed  also  a  readi- 
ness at  picking  up  information,  and  arraying  the  scattered 
fragments  of  news  into  a  certain  consistence,  which  greatly 
imposed  upon  my  comi'ades.  A  quick  eye  for  mancpuyi'es, 
and  a  shi'ewd  habit  of  combining  in  my  own  mind  the 
yarious  facts  that  came  before  me,  made  me  appear  to  them 
a  perfect  authority  on  military  matters,  of  which  I  talked, 
I  shame  to  say,  with  all  the  confidence  and  presumption  of 
an  accomplished  general.  A  few  lucky  guesses,  and  a  few 
half  hints  accidentally  confirmed,  completed  all  that  was 
wanting, — and  what  says  "  Le  Jeune  Maurice,"  was  the 
ineyitable  question  that  followed  each  piece  of  flying  gossip, 
or  eyery  rumor  that  rose  of  a  projected  moyement. 

I  haye  seen  a  good  deal  of  the  world  since  that  time,  and 
I  am  bound  to  confess  that  not  a  few  of  the  great  reputa- 
tions I  haye  witnessed  haye  stood  upon  grounds  yery  similar 
and  not  a  whit  more  stable  than  my  own.  A  bold  face,  a 
ready  tongue,  a  promptness  to  support  with  my  right  hand 
whateyer  my  lips  were  pledged  to,  and  aboye  all  good  luck 
made  me  the  king  of  my  company ;  and  although  that 
soyereignty  only  extended  to  half  a  squadron  of  hussars,  it 
was  a  whole  uniyerse  to  me. 

So  stood  matters  when,  on  the  23d  of  June,  orders  came 
for  the  whole  corj:)s  cVarmee  to  hold  itself  in  readiness  for  a 
forward  moyement.  Eations  for  two  days  were  distributed, 
and  ammunition  giyen  out  as  if  for  an  attack  of  some 
duration.  Meanwhile,  to  obyiate  an}'  suspicion  of  our  in- 
tentions, the  gates  of  Strasbourg  on  the  eastern  side  were 
closed,  all  egress  in  that  dkection  forbidden,  and  couriers 
and  estafettes  sent  off  towards  the  north,  as  if  to  proyide 
for  the  march  of  our  force  in  that  du'ection.  The  arriyal  of 
yarious  orderly  dragoons  during  the  preyious  night,  and  on 
that  morning  early,  told  of  a  gi'eat  attack  in  force  on 
Manheim.  about  sixty  miles  lower  down  the  Rhine,  and  the 
cannonade  of  which  some  ayowed  that  they  could  hear  at 
that    distance.       The    rumor    therefore    seemed    confirmed 


"THE   PASSAGE   OF  THE   RHINE."  121 

that  we  were  ordered  to  move  to  the  north,  to  support  this 
assault. 

The  secret  despatch  of  a  few  dismounted  dragoons  and 
some  riflemen  to  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  however,  did  not 
strike  me  as  according  with  this  view,  and  particularly  as 
I  saw  that,  although  all  were  equipped  and  in  readiness  to 
move,  the  order  to  march  was  not  given,  —  a  delay  very 
unlikely  to  be  incurred  if  we  were  destined  to  act  as  the 
reserve  of  the  force  already  engaged. 

Directly  opposite  to  us,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  and 
separated  from  it  by  a  low  flat  of  about  two  miles  in  extent, 
stood  the  fortress  of  Kehl,  at  that  time  garrisoned  by  a 
strong  Austrian  force  ;  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  the  wooded 
islands  in  the  stream,  which  communicated  with  the  right  by 
bridges  or  fordable  passes,  being  also  held  by  the  enemy  in 
force. 

These  we  had  often  seen,  by  the  aid  of  telescopes,  from 
the  towers  and  spires  of  Strasbourg;  and  now  I  remarked 
that  the  general  and  his  staff  seemed  more  than  usually  intent 
on  observing  their  movements.  This  fact,  coupled  with  the 
not  less  significant  one  that  no  preparations  for  a  defence  of 
Strasbourg  were  in  progress,  convinced  me  that  instead  of 
moving  down  the  Rhine  to  the  attack  on  Manheim,  the  plan 
of  our  general  was  to  cross  the  river  where  we  were  and 
make  a  dash  at  the  fortress  of  Kehl.  I  was  soon  to  receive 
the  confirmation  of  my  suspicion,  as  the  orders  came  for  two 
squadrons  of  the  Ninth  to  proceed,  dismounted,  to  the  bank 
of  the  Rhine,  and,  under  shelter  of  the  willows,  to  conceal 
themselves  there.  Taking  possession  of  the  various  skiffs 
and  fishing-boats  along  the  bank,  we  were  distributed  in 
small  parties,  to  one  of  which,  consisting  of  eight  men  under 
the  orders  of  a  corporal,  I  belonged. 

About  an  hour's  march  brought  us  to  the  river  side,  in  a 
little  clump  of  alder  willows,  where,  moored  to  a  stake,  lay 
a  fishing-boat  with  two  short  oars  in  her.  Lying  down 
beneath  the  shade,  for  the  afternoon  was  hot  and  sultry, 
some  of  us  smoked,  some  chatted,  and  a  few  dozed  away 
the  hours  that  somehow  seemed  unusually  slow  in  passing. 

There  was  a  certain  dogged  sullenness  about  my  com- 
panions, which  proceeded  from  their  belief  that  we  and  all 


122  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

who  remained  at  Strasbourg  were  merely  left  to  occupy  the 
enemy's  attention,  while  greater  operations  were  to  be 
carried  on  elsewhere. 

"  You  see  what  it  is  to  be  a  condemned  corps,"  muttered 
one;  "it's  little  matter  what  befalls  the  old  Ninth,  even 
should  they  be  cut  to  pieces." 

"  They  did  n't  think  so  at  Enghien,"  said  another,  "  when 
we  rode  down  the  Austrian  cuirassiers." 

"Plain  enough,"  cried  a  thu'd,  "we  are  to  have  skii'- 
mishers'  duty  here,  without  skirmishers'  fortune  in  having  a 
force  to  fall  back  upon." 

"Eh!  Maurice,  is  not  this  very  like  what  you  predicted 
for  us  ?  "  broke  in  a  fourth,  ii-onically. 

"I'm  of  the  same  mind  still,"  rejoined  I,  coolly:  "the 
general  is  not  thinking  of  a  retreat ;  he  has  no  intention  ol 
deserting  a  well-garrisoned,  well-provisioned  fortress.  Let 
the  attack  on  Manheim  have  what  success  it  may,  Strasbourg 
will  be  held  still.  I  overheard  Colonel  Guyon  remark  that 
the  waters  of  the  Rhine  have  fallen  three  feet  since  the 
drought  set  in,  and  Regnier  replied  '  that  we  must  lose  no 
time,  for  there  will  come  rain  and  floods  ere  long.'  Now, 
what  could  that  mean  but  the  intention  to  cross  over 
yonder?" 

"  Cross  the  Rhine  in  face  of  the  fort  of  Kehl !  "  broke  in 
the  corporal. 

"  The  French  army  have  done  bolder  things  before  now," 
was  my  reply ;  and,  whatever  the  opinion  of  my  comrades, 
the  flattery  ranged  them  on  my  side.  Perhaps  the  corporal 
felt  it  beneath  his  dignity  to  discuss  tactics  with  an  inferior, 
or  perhaps  he  felt  unable  to  refute  the  specious  pretensions 
I  advanced ;  in  any  case  he  turned  away,  and  either  slept, 
or  affected  sleep,  while  I  strenuously  labored  to  convince  my 
companions  that  my  surmise  was  correct. 

I  repeated  all  my  former  arguments  about  the  decrease  in 
the  Rhine,  showing  that  the  river  was  scarcely  two  thii'ds 
of  its  habitual  breadth,  that  the  nights  were  now  dark  and 
well  suited  for  a  surprise,  that  the  columns  which  issued  from 
the  town  took  their  departui'e  with  a  pomp  and  parade  far 
more  likely  to  attract  the  enemy's  attention  than  escape  his 
notice,  and  were  therefore  the  more  likely  to  be  destined  for 


"THE  PASSAGE   OF  THE   RHINE."  123 

some  secret  expedition  of  which  all  this  display  was  but  the 
blind.  These,  and  similar  facts,  I  grouped  together  with  a 
certain  ingenuity,  which,  if  it  failed  to  convince,  at  least 
silenced  my  opponents.  And  now  the  brief  twilight,  if  so 
short  a  struggle  between  day  and  darkness  deserved  the 
name,  passed  off,  and  night  suddenly  closed  around  us,  —  a 
night  black  and  starless,  for  a  heavy  mass  of  lowering  cloud 
seemed  to  unite  with  the  dense  vapor  that  arose  from  the 
river  and  the  low-lying  grounds  along  side  of  it.  The  air 
was  hot  and  sultry,  too,  like  the  precursor  of  a  thunder- 
storm, and  the  rush  of  the  stream  as  it  washed  among  the 
willows  sounded  preternaturally  loud  in  the  stillness. 

A  hazy,  indistinct  flame,  the  watch-fire  of  the  enemy  on 
the  island  of  Eslar,  was  the  only  object  visible  in  the  murky 
darkness.  After  a  while,  however,  we  could  detect  another 
fire  on  a  smaller  island,  a  short  distance  higher  up  the 
stream.  This,  at  first  dim  and  uncertain,  blazed  up  after  a 
while,  and  at  length  we  descried  the  dark  shadows  of  men  as 
they  stood  around  it. 

It  was  but  the  day  before  that  I  had  been  looking  on  a 
map  of  the  Rhine,  and  remarked  to  myself  that  this  small 
island,  little  more  than  a  mere  rock  in  the  stream,  was  so 
situated  as  to  command  the  bridge  between  Eslar  and  the 
German  bank,  and  I  could  not  help  wondering  that  the 
Austrians  had  never  taken  the  precaution  to  strengthen  it,  or 
at  least  place  a  gun  there  to  enfilade  the  bridge.  Now, 
to  my  extreme  astonishment,  I  saw  it  occupied  by  the 
soldiery,  who  doubtless  were  artillery,  as  in  such  a  position 
small  arms  would  prove  of  slight  efficiency.  As  I  reflected 
over  this,  wondering  within  myself  if  any  intimation  of  our 
movements  could  have  reached  the  enemy,  I  heard  along  the 
ground  on  which  I  was  lying  the  peculiar  tremulous,  dull 
sound  communicated  by  a  large  body  of  men  marching. 
The  measured  tramp  could  not  be  mistaken,  and  as  I  listened 
I  could  perceive  that  a  force  was  moving  towards  the  river 
from  different  quarters.  The  rumbling  roll  of  heavy  guns 
and  the  clattering  noise  of  cavalry  were  also  easily  distin- 
guished, and  awaking  one  of  my  comrades  I  called  his  atten- 
tion to  the  sounds. 

^^  Parbleuf  said  he,   "thou'rt   right;  they're  going  to 


124  MAURICE    TIERNAY. 

make  a  dash  at  the  fortress,  and  there  will  be  hot  work  ere 
morning.  AVhat  say  you  now,  corporal,  has  ^lam-ice  hit  it 
off  this  time  ?  " 

"  That 's  as  it  may  be,"  growled  the  other,  sulkily  ;  "  guess- 
ing is  easy  work  ever  for  such  as  thee !  but  if  he  be  so 
clever,  let  him  tell  us  why  are  we  stationed  along  the  river's 
bank  in  small  detachments.  We  have  had  no  orders  to 
obsel'^^e  the  enemy,  nor  to  report  upon  anything  that  might 
go  forward ;  nor  do  I  see  with  what  object  we  were  to  secure 
the  fishing-boats,  —  troops  could  never  be  conveyed  across 
the  Rhine  in  skiffs  lilve  these  !  " 

"  I  think  that  this  order  was  given  to  prevent  any  of  the 
fishermen  gi^^ng  information  to  the  enemy  in  case  of  a 
sudden  attack,"  replied  I. 

"  Mayhap  thou  wert  at  the  council  of  war  when  the  plan 
was  decided  on,"  said  he,  contemptuously.  'Tor  a  fellow 
that  never  saw  the  smoke  of  an  enemy's  gun,  thou  hast  a 
rare  audacity  in  talking  of  war !  " 

"  Yonder  is  the  best  answer  to  your  taunt,"  said  I,  as  in  a 
little  bend  of  the  stream  beside  us  two  boats  were  seen  to 
pull  under  the  shelter  of  the  tall  alders,  from  which  the  clank 
of  arms  could  be  plainly  heard ;  and  now  another  larger 
launch  swept  past,  the  dark  shadows  of  a  dense  crowd  of 
men  showing  above  the  gunwale. 

"They  are  embarking,  they  are  certainly  embarking," 
now  ran  from  mouth  to  mouth.  As  the  troops  arrived  at 
the  river's  bank  they  were  speedily  "told  off"  in  separate 
divisions,  of  which  some  were  to  lead  the  attack,  others  to 
follow,  and  a  third  portion  to  remain  as  a  resen^e  in  the 
event  of  a  repulse. 

The  leading  boat  was  manned  entu-ely  by  volunteers,  and 
I  could  hear  from  where  1  lay  the  names  called  aloud  as 
the  men  stepped  out  from  the  ranks.  I  could  hear  that  the 
first  point  of  attack  was  the  island  of  Eslar.  So  far  there 
was  a  confirmation  of  my  own  guessing,  and  I  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  assume  the  full  credit  of  my  skill  from  my  comrades. 
In  truth,  they  willingly  conceded  all  or  even  more  than  I 
asked  for.  Not  a  stir  was  heard,  not  a  sight  seen,  not  a 
movement  made  of  which  I  was  not  expected  to  tell  the 
cause  and  the  import ;   and  knowing  that  to  sustain  my  in- 


"THE  PASSAGE   OF  THE   RHIXE."  125 

fluence  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  affect  a  thorough 
acquaintance  with  everything,  I  answered  all  then*  questions 
boldly  and  unhesitatingly.  I  need  scarcely  obsel•^'e  that  the 
corporal  in  comparison  sunk  into  downright  insignificance. 
He  had  already  shown  himself  a  false  guide,  and  none  asked 
his  opinion  further,  and  I  became  the  ruling  genius  of  the 
hour.  The  embarkation  now  went  briskly  forward ;  several 
light  field-guns  were  placed  in  the  boats,  and  two  or  three 
large  rafts,  capable  of  containing  two  companies  each,  were 
prepared  to  be  towed  across  by  boats. 

Exactly  as  the  heavy  hammer  of  the  cathedral  sti'uck  one, 
the  first  boat  emerged  from  the  willows,  and  darting  rapidly 
forward  headed  for  the  middle  of  the  stream ;  another  and 
another  in  quick  succession  followed,  and  speedily  were  lost 
to  us  in  the  gloom ;  and  now  two  four-oared  skiff's  stood  out 
together,  having  a  raft  with  two  guns  in  tow ;  by  some  mis- 
chance, however,  they  got  entangled  in  a  side  cuiTent,  and 
the  raft  swerving  to  one  side  swept  past  the  boats,  can-ying 
them  down  the  stream  along  with  it.  Our  attention  was  not 
suffered  to  dwell  on  this  mishap,  for  at  the  same  moment  the 
flash  and  rattle  of  firearms  told  us  the  battle  had  begun. 
Two  or  three  isolated  shots  were  first  heard,  and  then  a  sharp 
platoon  fii'e,  accompanied  by  a  wild  cheer  that  we  well  knew 
came  from  our  own  fellows.  One  deep  mellow  boom  of  a 
large  gun  resounded  amidst  the  crash,  and  a  slight  streak  of 
flame,  higher  up  the  stream,  showed  that  the  shot  came  from 
the  small  island  I  have  already  spoken  of. 

"  Listen  lads,"  said  I;  ''  that  came  from  the  '  Fels  Insel.' 
If  they  are  fii'ing  grape  yonder,  our  poor  fellows  in  the 
boats  will  suffer  sorely  from  it.     B}'  Jove,  there  is  a  crash  I  " 

As  I  was  speaking,  a  rattling  noise  like  the  sound  of  clat- 
tering timber  was  heard,  and  with  it  a  sharp,  shrill  cry  of 
agony,  and  all  was  hushed. 

''Let's  at  them,  boys!  they  can't  be  much  above  our 
own  number.  The  island  is  a  mere  rock,"  cried  I  to  my 
comrades. 

''  TVho  commands  this  party,"  said  the  corporal,  ''  you 
or  I?" 

"You.  if  you  lead  us  against  the  enemy,"  said  I;  "but 
I'll  take  it  if  my  comrades  will  follow  me.  There  goes 
another  shot !  lads  —  yes  or  no  —  now  is  the  time  to  speak." 


126  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"We're  ready,"  cried  three,  springing  forward  with  one 
impulse. 

At  the  instant  I  jumped  into  the  skiff,  the  others  took  their 
places,  and  then  came  a  fourth,  a  fifth,  a  sixth,  and  a  seventh, 
leaving  the  corporal  alone  on  the  bank. 

"Come  along,  corporal,"  cried  I,  "we'll  win  your  epau- 
lettes for  you ;  "  but  he  turned  away  without  a  word,  and 
not  waiting  further,  I  pushed  out  the  skiff  and  sent  her 
skimming  down  the  stream. 

"  Pull  steady,  boys,  and  silently,"  said  I ;  "we  must  gain 
the  middle  of  the  current,  and  then  drop  down  the  river 
without  the  least  noise.  Once  beneath  the  trees,  we  '11  give 
them  a  volley,  and  then  the  bayonet.  Remember,  lads,  no 
flinching !  it 's  as  well  to  die  here  as  be  shot  by  old  Regnier 
to-morrow." 

The  conflict  on  the  Eslar  island  was  now,  to  all  seeming, 
at  its  height.  The  roll  of  musketry  was  incessant,  and  sheets 
of  flame  from  time  to  time  streaked  the  darkness  above  the 
river. 

"  Stronger  and  together,  boys!  once  more  —  there  it  is  — 
we  are  in  the  current  now ;  in  with  you,  men,  and  look  to 
your  carbines  ;  see  that  the  priming  is  safe  ;  every  shot  soon 
will  be  worth  a  fusillade.  Lie  still  now,  and  wait  for  the 
word  to  fire." 

The  spreading  foliage  of  the  nut-trees  was  rustling  over 
our  heads  as  I  spoke,  and  the  sharp  skiff,  borne  on  the  cur- 
rent, glided  smoothly  on  till  her  bow  struck  the  rock.  With 
high-beating  hearts  we  clambered  up  the  little  cliff',  and  as 
we  reached  the  top  beheld  uumediately  beneath  us,  in  a 
slight  dip  of  the  ground,  several  figures  around  a  gun,  which 
they  were  busy  in  adjusting.  I  looked  right  and  left  to  see 
that  my  little  party  were  all  assembled,  and  without  waiting 
for  more,  gave  the  order  —  fire  ! 

We  were  within  pistol  range,  and  the  discharge  was  a 
deadly  one.  The  terror,  however,  was  not  less  complete; 
for  all  who  escaped  death  fled  from  the  spot,  and  dashing 
through  the  brushwood,  made  for  the  shallow  part  of  the 
stream,  between  the  island  and  the  right  bank. 

Our  prize  was  a  brass  eight-pounder,  and  an  ample  supply 
of  ammunition.     The  gun  was  pointed  towards  the  middle 


«  THE  PASSAGE   OF  THE   RHINE."  127 

of  the  stream,  where  the  current  being  strongest,  the  boats 
would  necessarily  be  delayed ;  and  in  all  likelihood  some  of 
our  gallant  comrades  had  already  experienced  its  fatal  fire. 
To  wheel  it  right  about,  and  point  it  on  the  Eslar  bridge,  was 
the  work  of  a  couple  of  minutes ;  and  while  three  of  our 
little  party  kept  up  a  steady  fire  on  the  retreating  enemy, 
the  others  loaded  the  gun  and  prepared  to  fire. 

Our  distance  from  the  Eslar  island  and  bridge,  as  well 
as  I  could  judge  from  the  darkness,  might  be  about  two 
hundred  and  fifty  yards ;  and  as  we  had  the  advantage  of  a 
slight  elevation  of  ground,  our  position  was  admirable. 

"  Wait  patiently,  lads,"  said  I,  restraining,  with  difficulty, 
the  burning  ardor  of  my  men,  —  "wait  patiently  till  the 
retreat  has  commenced  over  the  bridge.  The  work  is  too  hot 
to  last  much  longer  on  the  island ;  to  fire  upon  them  there 
would  be  to  risk  our  own  men  as  much  as  the  enemy.  See 
what  long  flashes  of  flame  break  forth  among  the  brushwood  ; 
and  listen  to  the  cheering  now  !  That  was  a  French  cheer ! 
and  there  goes  another.  Look !  look !  the  bridge  is  dark- 
ening already !  That  was  a  bugle-call,  and  they  are  in  full 
retreat.     Now  lads  —  now !  " 

As  I  spoke,  the  gun  was  discharged,  and  the  instant  after 
we  heard  the  crashing  rattle  of  the  timber,  as  the  shot  struck 
the  bridge  and  splintered  the  wood- work  in  all  dkections. 

"The  range  is  perfect,  lads,"  cried  I.  "Load  and  fire 
with  all  speed." 

Another  shot,  followed  by  a  terrific  scream  from  the  bridge, 
told  how  the  work  was  doing.  Oh  the  savage  exultation, 
the  fiendish  joy  of  my  heart,  as  I  drank  in  that  cry  of  agony, 
and  called  upon  my  men  to  load  faster ! 

Six  shots  were  poured  in  with  tremendous  precision  and 
effe-ct,  and  the  seventh  tore  away  one  of  the  main  supports 
of  the  bridge,  and  down  went  the  densely  crowded  column 
into  the  Rhine ;  at  the  same  instant  the  guns  of  our  launches 
opened  a  destructive  fire  upon  the  banks,  which  soon  were 
swept  clean  of  the  enemy. 

High  up  on  the  stream,  and  for  nearly  a  mile  below  also, 
we  could  see  the  boats  of  our  army  pulling  in  for  shore ;  the 
crossing  of  the  Rhine  had  been  effected,  and  we  now  pre- 
pared to  follow. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"A    GLANCE    AT    STAFF-DUTY." 

Although  the  passage  of  the  Rhine  was  but  the  prelude  to 
the  attack  on  the  fortress,  that  exploit  being  accomplished, 
Kehl  was  earned  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  the  French 
troops  entering  the  outworks  pell-mell  with  the  retreating 
enemy ;  and  in  less  than  two  hours  after  the  landing  of  oui' 
first  detachments,  the  tricolor  waved  over  the  walls  of  the 
fortress. 

Lost  amid  the  greater  and  more  important  successes 
which  since  that  time  have  immortalized  the  glory  of  the 
French  arms,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  credit  the  celebrity 
attached  at  that  time  to  this  brilliant  achievement,  whose 
highest  merits  probablj"  were  rapidity  and  resolution. 
Moreau  had  long  been  jealous  of  the  fame  of  his  great  rival 
Bonaparte,  whose  tactics,  rejecting  the  colder  dictates  of 
prudent  strategy  and  the  slow  progress  of  scientific  manoeu- 
\Tes,  seemed  to  place  all  his  confidence  in  the  sudden  inspii*- 
ations  of  his  genius  and  the  indomitable  bravery  of  his 
troops.  It  was  necessary,  then,  to  raise  the  morale  of  the 
army  of  the  Rhine,  to  accomplish  some  great  feat  similar  in 
boldness  and  heroism  to  the  wonderful  achievements  of  the 
Italian  army.  Such  was  the  passage  of  the  Rhine  at  Stras- 
bourg, effected  in  the  face  of  a  great  enemy  advantageously 
posted,  and  supported  by  one  of  the  strongest  of  all  the 
frontier   fortresses. 

The  morning  broke  upon  us  in  all  the  exultation  of  our 
triumph,  and  as  our  cheers  rose  high  over  the  field  of  the 
late  struggle,  each  heart  beat  proudly  with  the  thought  of 
how  that  news  would  be  received  in  Paris. 

"  You'll  see  how  the  bulletin  will  spoil  all,"  said  a  young 
officer  of  the  army  of  Italy,  as  he  was  getting  his  wound 


"A   GLANCE  AT  STAFF-DUTY."  129 

dressed  on  the  field.  "There  will  be  such  a  long  narrative 
of  irrelevant  matter  —  such  details  of  this,  that,  and  t'  other 
—  that  the  public  will  scarce  know  whether  the  placard 
announces  a  defeat  or  a  victory." 

'-^  Parhleu!''  replied  an  old  veteran  of  the  Rhine  army, 
"what  would  you  have?  You'd  not  desire  to  omit  the 
military  facts  of  such  an  exploit  ? " 

"To  be  sure  I  would,"  rejoined  the  other.  "  Give  me 
one  of  our  young  general's  bulletins,  short,  stirring,  and 
effective  :  '  Soldiers  !  you  have  crossed  the  Rhine  against  an 
army  double  your  own  in  numbers  and  munitions  of  war. 
You  have  carried  a  fortress,  believed  impregnable,  at  the 
bayonet.  Ah-eady  the  great  flag  of  our  nation  waves  over 
the  citadel  you  have  won.  Forward,  then,  and  cease  not 
till  it  floats  over  the  cities  of  conquered  Germany,  and  let 
the  name  of  France  be  that  of  Empire  over  the  continent  of 
Eui'ope.'  " 

"Ha!  I  like  that,"  cried  I,  enthusiastically;  "  that's  the 
bulletin  to  my  fancy.  Repeat  it  once  more,  nion  lieutenant, 
that  I  may  write  it  in  my  note-book." 

"What!  hast  thou  a  note-book?"  cried  an  old  staff- 
oflacer,  who  was  preparing  to  mount  his  horse;  "let's  see 
it,  lad." 

With  a  burning  cheek  and  trembling  hand,  I  drew  my 
little  joui'nal  from  the  breast  of  my  jacket,  and  gave  it  to 
him. 

" /S'acre  hleuf  exclaimed  he,  in  a  burst  of  laughter, 
"what  have  we  here?  Why,  this  is  a  portrait  of  old 
General  Moricier,  and,  although  a  caricature,  a  perfect  like- 
ness. And  here  comes  a  plan  for  manoeuvring  a  squadron 
by  threes  from  the  left.  This  is  better,  —  it  is  a  receipt  for 
an  '  Omelette  a  la  Hussard ; '  and  here  we  have  a  love-song, 
and  a  mustache-paste,  with  some  hints  about  devotion,  and 
diseased  frog  in  horses.  Most  versatile  genius,  certainly !  " 
and  so  he  went  on,  occasionally  laughing  at  my  rude 
sketches  and  ruder  remarks,  till  he  came  to  a  page  headed 
"  Equitation,  as  practised  by  Officers  of  the  Staff,"  and 
followed  by  a  series  of  caricatures  of  bad  riding,  in  all  its 
moods  and  tenses.  The  flush  of  anger  which  instantly 
colored  his  face  soon  attracted   the  notice  of  those  about 


130  MAURICE  TIEENAY. 

him,  and  one  of  the  bystanders  quickly  snatched  the  book 
from  his  fingers,  and,  in  the  midst  of  a  group  all  convulsed 
with  laughter,  proceeded  to  expatiate  upon  my  illustrations. 
To  be  sure,  they  were  absurd  enough.  Some  were  repre- 
sented sketching  on  horseback,  under  shelter  of  an  umbrella ; 
others  were  ' '  taking  the  depth  of  a  stream  "  by  a  "  header  " 
from  their  own  saddles  ;  some  again  were  ' '  exploring  ground 
for  an  attack  in  line,"  by  a  measm-ement  of  the  rider's  own 
length  over  the  head  of  his  horse.  Then  there  were  ridicu- 
lous situations,  such  as  "  sitting  down  before  a  fortress," 
"taking  an  angle  of  incidence,"  and  so  on.  Sorry  jests  all 
of  them,  but  sufficient  to  amuse  those  with  whose  daily 
associations  they  chimed  in,  and  to  whom  certain  traits  of 
portraiture  gave  all  the  zest  of  a  personality. 

My  shame  at  the  exposure,  and  my  terror  for  its  conse- 
quences, gradually  yielded  to  a  feeling  of  flattered  vanity  at 
the  success  of  my  lucubrations ;  and  I  never  remarked  that 
the  staff-officer  had  ridden  away  from  the  group  till  I  saw  him 
galloping  back  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

"  Is  your  name  Tiernay,  my  good  fellow?  "  cried  he,  riding 
close  up  to  my  side,  and  with  an  expression  on  his  featui'es 
I  did  not  half  like. 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  I. 

"Hussar  of  the  Ninth,  I  believe?"  repeated  he,  reading 
from  a  paper  in  his  hand. 

"  The  same,  sir." 

"  Well,  youi'  talents  as  a  draughtsman  have  procured  you 
promotion,  my  friend ;  I  have  obtained  your  discharge  from 
your  regiment,  and  you  are  now  my  orderly,  —  orderly  on 
the  staff,  do  you  mind;  so  mount,  sir,  and  follow  me." 

I  saluted  him  respectfully,  and  prepared  to  obey  his  orders. 
Ah-eady  I  foresaw  the  downfall  of  all  the  hopes  I  had  been 
cherishing,  and  anticipated  the  life  of  tyranny  and  oppres- 
sion that  lay  before  me.  It  was  clear  to  me  that  my  dis- 
charge had  been  obtained  solely  as  a  means  of  punishing  me, 
and  that  Captain  Discau,  as  the  officer  was  called,  had  des- 
tined me  to  a  pleasant  expiation  of  my  note-book.  The 
savage  exultation  with  which  he  watched  me,  as  I  made  up 
my  kit  and  saddled  my  horse,  the  cool  malice  with  which  he 
handed  me  back  the  accursed  journal  the  cause  of  all  my 


"A  GLANCE  AT  STArF-DUTY."  131 

disasters,  gave  me  a  dark  foreboding  of  what  was  to  follow ; 
and  as  I  mouuted  my  saddle,  m.y  woeful  face  aud  miserable 
look  brought  forth  a  perfect  shout  of  laughter  from  the 
bystanders. 

Captain  Discau's  duty  was  to  visit  the  banks  of  the  Rhine 
aud  the  Eslar  island,  to  take  certain  measurements  of  dis- 
tances, and  obtain  accurate  information  on  various  minute 
points  respecting  the  late  engagement,  —  for,  while  a  brief 
announcement  of  the  victory  would  suffice  for  the  bulletin,  a 
detailed  narrative  of  the  event  in  all  its  bearings  must  be 
drawn  up  for  the  minister  of  war,  and  for  this  latter  purpose 
various  staff-officers  were  then  employed  in  different  parts  of 
the  field. 

As  we  issued  from  the  fortress  and  took  om-  way  over  the 
plain,  we  struck  out  into  a  sharp  gallop ;  but  as  we  drew 
near  the  river,  our  passage  became  so  obstructed  by  lines  of 
basjofasre  wasjons,  tumbrils,  and  ammunition  carts  that  we 
were  obliged  to  dismount  and  proceed  on  foot ;  and  now  I 
was  to  see  for  the  first  time  that  dreadful  picture  which  on 
the  day  after  a  battle  forms  the  reverse  of  the  great  medal 
of  glory.  Huge  litters  of  wounded  men,  on  theii'  way  back 
to  Strasbourg,  were  drawn  by  six  or  eight  horses,  theii'  jolt- 
ing motion  increasing  the  agony  of  sufferings  that  found 
their  vent  in  teiTific  cries  and  screams ;  oaths,  yells,  and 
blasphemies,  the  ravings  of  madness,  and  the  wild  shouts  of 
infui'iated  suffering  filled  the  aii'  on  every  side.  As  if  to 
give  the  force  of  contrast  to  this  uproar  of  misery,  two  regi- 
ments of  Swabian  infantry  marched  past  as  prisoners. 
Silent,  crest-fallen,  and  wretched-looking,  they  never  raised 
their  eyes  from  the  ground,  but  moved  or  halted,  wheeled  or 
stood  at  ease,  as  though  by  some  impulse  of  mechanism ;  a 
cord  coupled  the  wrists  of  the  outer  files  one  with  another, 
which  struck  me  less  as  a  measure  of  security  against 
escape  than  as  a  mark  of  indignity. 

Carts  and  charettes  with  wounded  officers,  in  which  often- 
times the  unifonn  of  the  enemy  appeared  side  by  side  with 
our  own,  followed  in  long  procession ;  and  thus  were  these 
two  great  euri'ents  — the  one  hurrying  foi^ward,  ardent,  high- 
hearted, and  enthusiastic;  the  other  returning  maimed, 
shattered,   and  dying ! 


132  AIAUEICE  TIERXAY. 

It  was  an  affecting  scene  to  see  the  hurried  gestures  and 
hear  the  few  words  of  adieu  as  they  passed  each  other.  Old 
comrades  who  were  never  to  meet  again  parted  with  a  little 
motion  of  the  hand ;  sometimes  a  mere  look  was  all  their 
leave-taking,  —  save  when,  now  and  then,  a  halt  would  for  a 
few  seconds  bring  the  lines  together,  and  then  many  a 
bronzed  and  rugged  cheek  was  pressed  upon  the  faces  of  the 
dying,  and  many  a  tear  fell  from  eyes  bloodshot  with  the 
fury  of  the  battle.  Wending  our  way  on  foot  slowly  along, 
we  at  last  reached  the  river  side,  and  having  secured  a  small 
skiff  made  for  the  Eslar  island ;  our  first  business  being  to 
ascertain  some  details  respecting  the  intrenchments  there, 
and  the  depth  and  strength  of  the  stream  between  it  and  the 
left  bank.  Discau,  who  was  a  distinguished  officer,  rapidly 
possessed  himself  of  the  principal  facts  he  wanted,  and  then, 
having  given  me  his  portfolio,  he  seated  himself  under  the 
shelter  of  a  broken  wagon,  and  opening  a  napkin,  began 
his  breakfast  off  a  portion  of  a  chicken  and  some  bread,  — 
viands  which,  I  own,  more  than  once  made  my  lips  water  as 
I  watched  him. 

"You've  eaten  nothing  to-day,  Tiernay?"  asked  he,  as 
he  wiped  his  lips  with  the  air  of  a  man  that  feels  satisfied. 

"Nothing,  mon  capltaine^''  replied  I. 

"That's  bad,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head;  "a  soldier 
cannot  do  his  duty  if  his  rations  be  neglected.  I  have  always 
maintained  the  principle,  look  to  the  men's  necessaries ;  take 
care  of  their  food  and  clothing.  Is  there  anything  on  that 
bone  there  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  mon  capitaineJ' 

"  I  'm  sorry  for  it ;  I  meant  it  for  you.  Put  up  that  bread, 
and  the  remainder  of  that  flask  of  wine, — Bourdeaux  is 
not  to  be  had  every  day;  we  shall  want  it  for  supper, 
Tiernay." 

I  did  as  I  was  bid,  wondering  not  a  little  why  he  said  "  we," 
seeing  how  little  a  share  I  occupied  in  the  copartnery. 

"  Always  be  careful  of  the  morrow  on  a  campaign,  Tier- 
nay. No  squandering,  no  waste, — that's  one  of  my  prin- 
ciples," said  he,  gravely,  as  he  watched  me  while  I  tied  up 
the  bread  and  wine  in  a  napkin.  "You'll  soon  see  the 
advantage  of  serving  under  an  old  soldier." 


"A  GLANCE  AT  STAFF-DUTY."  133 

I  confess  the  great  benefit  bad  not  ab'eady  struck  me,  but 
I  held  my  peace  and  waited ;  meanwhile  he  continued,  — 

"  I  have  studied  my  profession  from  my  boyhood,  and  one 
thing  I  have  acquu'ed  that  all  experience  has  confirmed,  — 
the  knowledge  that  men  must  neither  be  taxed  beyond  their 
ability  nor  their  endurance ;  a  French  soldier,  after  all,  is 
human,  —  eh,  is 't  not  so  ?  " 

''  I  feel  it  most  profoundly,  mon  capitaine^'"  replied  I,  with 
my  hand  on  my  empty  stomach. 

"  Just  so,"  rejoined  he  ;  "  every  man  of  sense  and  discre- 
tion must  confess  it.  Happily  for  you,  too,  I  know  it;  ay, 
Tiernay,  I  know  it  and  practise  it.  When  a  young  fellow 
has  acquitted  himself  to  my  satisfaction  during  the  day,  — 
not  that  I  mean  to  say  that  the  performance  has  not  its  fair 
share  of  activity  and  zeal,  —  when  evening  comes  and  stable 
duty  finished,  arms  burnished,  and  accoutrements  cleaned, 
what  do  you  think  I  say  to  him?  Eh,  Tiernay,  just  guess 
now !  " 

"  Probably,  sir,  you  tell  him  he  is  free  to  spend  an  hour 
at  the  canteen,  or  take  his  sweetheart  to  the  theatre." 

"What!  more  fatigue!  more  exhaustion  to  an  ab'eady 
tired  and  worn-out  natm'e  !  " 

"I  ask  pardon,  sir-,  I  see  I  was  wrong;  but  I  had  for- 
gotten how  thoroughly  the  poor  fellow  was  done  up.  I  now 
see  that  you  told  him  to  go  to  bed." 

' '  To  bed !  to  bed !  Is  it  that  he  might  writhe  in  the 
nightmare,  or  suffer  agony  from  cramps?  To  bed  after 
fatigue  like  this  !  No,  no,  Tiernay ;  that  was  not  the  school 
in  which  I  was  brought  up.  We  were  taught  to  think  of  the 
men  under  our  command  ;  to  remember  that  they  had  wants, 
sympathies,  hopes,  fears,  and  emotions  like  our  own.  I  tell 
him  to  seat  himself  at  the  table,  and  with  pen,  ink,  and  paper 
before  him  to  write  up  the  blanks.  I  see  you  don't  quite 
understand  me,  Tiernay,  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  phrase, 
but  I  '11  let  you  into  the  secret.  You  have  been  kind  enough 
to  give  me  a  peep  at  your  note-book,  and  you  shall  in  return 
have  a  look  at  mine.  Open  that  volume,  and  tell  me  what 
you  find  in  it." 

I  obeyed  the  direction,  and  read  at  the  top  of  a  page  the 
words,  "Skeleton,  Fifth  Prairial,"  in  large  characters,  fol- 


134  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

lowed  by  several  isolated  words,  denoting  the  strength  of  a 
brigade,  the  number  of  guns  in  a  battery,  the  depth  of  a  fosse, 
the  height  of  a  parapet,  and  such  like.  These  were  usually 
followed  by  a  flouiish  of  the  pen,  or  sometimes  by  the  word 
"  Bom.,"  which  singular  monosyllable  always  occm-red  at  the 
foot  of  the  pages. 

"  Well,  have  you  caught  the  key  to  the  cipher?  "  said  he, 
after  a  pause. 

"  Not  quite,  sir,"  said  I,  pondering  ;  "I  can  perceive  that 
the  chief  facts  stand  prominently  forward,  in  a  fail'  round 
hand ;  I  can  also  guess  that  the  flourishes  may  be  spaces 
left  for  detail ;  but  this  word  '  Bom.'  puzzles  me  completel3\" 

"  Quite  correct,  as  to  the  first  part,"  said  he,  approvingly; 
"  and  as  to  the  mysterious  monosyllable,  it  is  nothing  more 
than  an  abbreviation  for  '  Bombaste,'  which  is  always  to  be 
done  to  the  taste  of  each  particular  commanding  officer." 

"I  perceive,  sk,"  said  I,  quickly,  —  "like  the  wadding 
of  a  gun,  which  may  increase  the  loudness,  but  never  affect 
the  strength  of  the  shot." 

"Precisely,  Tiernay ;  you  have  hit  it  exactly.  Now,  I 
hope  that  with  a  little  practice  you  may  be  able  to  acquit 
yourself  respectably  in  this  walk;  and  now  to  begin  our 
skeleton.  Turn  over  to  a  fresh  page,  and  write  as  I  dictate 
to  3^ou." 

So  saying,  he  filled  his  pipe  and  lighted  it,  and  disposing 
his  limbs  in  an  attitude  of  perfect  ease,  he  began  :  — 

"  8th  Thermidor,  midnight.  Twelve  battalions  and  two 
batteries  of  field  ;  boats  and  rafts  ;  Eslar  Island  ;  stockades  ; 
eight  guns  ;  Swabian  infantry  ;  sharp  firing,  and  a  flourish  ; 
strong  current  —  flourish  ;  detachment  of  the  Twenty-eighth 
carried  down  —  Bom.  Let  me  see  it  now,  —  all  right ;  noth- 
ing could  be  better ;  proceed.  The  Tenth,  Forty-fifth,  and 
Forty-eighth  landing  together ;  more  firing  —  flourish ;  first 
gun  captured  —  Bom.  ;  bayonet  charges  — Bom.  Bom. ;  thi-ee 
guns  taken  —  Bom.  Bom.  Bom.;  Swabs  in  retreat  —  fiour- 
ish ;  the  bridge  eighty  toises  in  length  ;  flanking  fire  ;  heavy 
loss  —  flourish." 

"You  go  a  little  too  fast,  mon  capitaine^'^  said  I,  for  a 
sudden  bright  thought  just  flashed  across  me. 

"Very  well,"  said  he,  shaking  the  ashes  of  his  pipe  out 


"A  GLANCE  AT   STAFF-DUTY."  135 

upon  the  rock,  "I'll  take  my  doze,  and  you  may  awaken  me 
when  you  've  filled  in  those  details,  —  it  will  be  a  very  fair 
exercise  for  you ;  "  and  with  this  he  threw  his  handkerchief 
over  his  face,  and  without  any  other  preparation  was  soon 
fast  asleep. 

I  own  that  if  I  had  not  been  a  spectator  of  the  action  it 
would  have  been  very  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  for  me  to 
draw  up  anything  like  a  narrative  of  it  from  the  meagre 
details  of  the  captain's  note-book.  My  personal  observa- 
tions, however,  assisted  by  an  easy  imagination,  suggested 
quite  enough  to  make  at  least  a  plausible  story,  and  I  wrote 
away  without  impediment  and  halt  till  I  came  to  that  part 
of  the  action  in  which  the  retreat  over  the  bridge  commenced. 
There  I  stopped.  Was  I  to  remain  satisfied  with  such  a 
crude  and  one-sided  explanation  as  the  note-book  afforded, 
and  merely  say  that  the  retreating  forces  were  harassed  by 
a  strong  flank  fire  from  our  batteries  ?  Was  I  to  omit  the 
whole  of  the  great  incident,  the  occupation  of  the  Fels  Insel, 
and  the  damaging  discharges  of  grape  and  round  shot  which 
plunged  through  the  crowded  ranks,  and  ultimately  destroyed 
the  bridge  ?  Could  I,  to  use  the  phrase  so  popular,  —  could 
I,  in  the  "interests  of  truth,"  forget  the  brilliant  achieve- 
ment of  a  gallant  band  of  heroes,  who,  led  on  by  a  young 
hussar  of  the  Ninth,  threw  themselves  into  the  Fels  Insel, 
routed  the  garrison,  captured  the  artillery,  and  directing  its 
fire  upon  the  retiring  enemy,  contributed  most  essentially  to 
the  \ictory.  Ought  I,  in  a  word,  to  suffer  a  name  so  asso- 
ciated with  a  glorious  action  to  sink  into  oblivion?  Should 
Maurice  Tiernay  be  lost  to  fame  out  of  any  neglect  or  false 
shame  on  my  part?  Forbid  it  all  truth  and  justice !  cried  I, 
as  I  set  myself  down  to  relate  the  whole  adventure  most 
cii-cumstantially.  Looking  up  from  time  to  time  at  my  offi- 
cer, who  slept  soundly,  I  suffered  myself  to  dilate  upon  a 
theme  in  which  somehow  I  felt  a  more  than  ordinary  degree 
of  interest.  The  more  I  dwelt  upon  the  incident,  the  more 
brilliant  and  striking  did  it  seem.  Like  the  appetite,  which 
the  proverb  tells  us  comes  by  eating,  my  enthusiasm  grew 
under  indulgence,  —  so  that,  had  a  little  more  time  been 
granted  me,  I  verily  believe  I  should  have  forgotten  Moreau 
altogether,  and  coupled  only  Maurice  Tiernay  with  the  pas- 


136  IMAURICE   TIERNAY. 

sage  of  the  Rhine  and  the  capture  of  the  fortress  of  Kehl. 
Fortunately,  Captain  Discau  awoke  and  cut  short  my  historic 
recollections  by  asking  me  how  much  I  had  done,  and  telling 
me  to  read  it  aloud  to  him. 

I  accordingly  began  to  read  my  narrative  slowly  and 
deliberately,  thereby  giving  myself  time  to  think  what  I 
should  best  do  when  I  came  to  that  part  which  became  purely 
personal.  To  omit  it  altogether  would  have  been  dangerous, 
as  the  slightest  glance  at  the  mass  of  writing  would  have 
shown  the  deception.  There  was,  then,  nothing  left  but  to 
invent  at  the  moment  another  version,  in  which  Maurice 
Tiernay  never  occurred,  and  the  incident  of  the  Fels  Insel 
should  figure  as  unobtrusively  as  possible.  I  was  always  a 
better  improvisatore  than  amanuensis ;  so  that  without  a 
moment's  loss  of  time  I  fashioned  a  new  and  very  different 
narrative,  and  detailed  the  battle  tolerably  accurately,  minus 
the  share  my  own  heroism  had  taken  in  it.  The  captain 
made  a  few,  a  very  few  corrections  of  my  style,  in  which 
the  "flourish"  and  "bom"  figured  perhaps  too  conspicu- 
ously ;  and  then  told  me  frankly  that  once  upon  a  time  he 
had  been  fool  enough  to  give  himself  great  trouble  in  fram- 
ing this  kind  of  report,  but  that  having  served  for  a  short 
period  in  the  bureau  of  the  minister  of  war,  he  had  learned 
better.  "  In  fact,"  said  he,  "a  district  report  is  never  read. 
Some  hundreds  of  them  reach  the  office  of  the  minister  every 
day,  and  are  safely  deposited  in  the  archives  of  the  depart- 
ment. They  have  all,  besides,  such  a  family  resemblance, 
that  with  a  few  changes  in  the  name  of  the  commanding  offi- 
cer, any  battle  in  the  Netherlands  would  do  equally  well 
for  one  fought  beyond  the  Alps.  Since  I  became  acquainted 
with  this  fact,  Tiernay,  I  have  bestowed  less  pains  upon 
the  matter,  and  usually  deputed  the  task  to  some  smart 
orderly  of  the  staff." 

So,  thought  I,  I  have  been  writing  history  for  nothing ; 
and  Maurice  Tiernay,  the  real  hero  of  the  passage  of  the 
Rhine,  will  be  unrecorded  and  unremembered,  just  for  want 
of  one  honest  and  impartial  scribe  to  transmit  his  name  to 
posterity.  The  reflection  was  not  a  very  encouraging  one ; 
nor  did  it  serve  to  lighten  the  toil  in  which  I  passed  many 
weary   hours,    copying   out   my    own   precious    manuscript. 


"A  GLANCE  AT   STAEF-DUTY."  137 

Again  and  again  during  that  night  did  I  wonder  at  my  own 
diffuseness ;  again  and  again  did  I  curse  the  prolix  accuracy 
of  a  description  that  cost  such  labor  to  reiterate.  It  was 
like  a  species  of  poetical  justice  on  me  for  my  own  ampli- 
fications ;  and  when  the  day  broke,  and  I  still  sat  at  my 
table  writing  on,  at  the  thkd  copy  of  this  precious  docu- 
ment, I  vowed  a  vow  of  brevity,  should  I  ever  survive  to 
indite  similar  compositions. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


A    FAREWELL    LETTER. 


It  was  in  something  less  than  a  week  after  I  entered  upon 
my  new  career  as  orderly  in  the  staff,  that  I  began  to 
believe  myself  the  most  miserable  of  all  human  beings. 
On  the  saddle  at  sunrise,  I  never  dismounted,  except  to 
carry  a  measui'ing  chain,  "  to  step  distances,"  mark  out 
entrenchments,  and  then  write  awa}^,  for  hom-s,  long  enor- 
mous reports,  that  were  to  be  models  of  caligraphy,  neatness, 
and  elegance  —  and  never  to  be  read  !  Nothing  could  be  less 
like  soldiering  than  the  life  I  led ;  and  were  it  not  for  the 
clanking  sabre  I  wore  at  my  side,  and  the  jingling  spurs 
that  decorated  my  heels,  I  might  have  fancied  myself  a 
notary's  clerk.  It  was  part  of  General  Moreau's  plan  to 
strengthen  the  defences  of  Kehl  before  he  advanced  farther 
into  Germany ;  and  to  this  end  repairs  were  begun  upon  a 
line  of  earthworks,  about  two  leagues  to  the  northward  of 
the  fortress,  at  a  small  village  called  Ekheim.  In  this 
miserable  little  hole,  one  of  the  dreariest  spots  imaginable, 
we  were  quartered,  with  two  companies  of  sapeurs  and 
some  of  the  wagon-train,  trenching,  digging,  carting  earth, 
sinking  wells,  and  in  fact  engaged  in  every  kind  of  labor 
save  that  which  seemed  to  be  characteristic  of  a  soldier. 

I  used  to  think  that  Nancy  and  the  riding-school  were  the 
most  dreary  and  tiresome  of  all  destinies,  but  they  were 
enjoyment  and  delight  compared  with  this.  Now,  it  very 
often  happens  in  life  that  when  a  man  grows  discontented 
and  dissatisfied  with  mere  monotony,  when  he  chafes  at  the 
sameness  of  a  tiresome  and  unexciting  existence,  he  is 
rapidly  approaching  to  some  critical  or  eventful  point,  where 
actual  peril  and  real  danger  assail  him,  and  from  which  he 
Tvould  willingly  buy  his  escape   by  falling  back  upon  that 


A  FAREWELL  LETTER.  139 

wearisome  and  plodding  life  he  had  so  often  deplored  before. 
This  case  was  my  own.  Just  as  I  had  convinced  myself 
that  I  was  exceedingly  wretched  and  miserable,  I  was  to 
know  there  are  worse  things  in  this  world  than  a  life  of 
mere  uniform  stupidity.  I  was  waiting  outside  my  captain's 
door  for  orders  one  morning,  when  at  the  tinkle  of  his  little 
hand-bell  I  entered  the  room  where  he  sat  at  breakfast,  with 
an  open  despatch  before  him. 

"  Tiernay,"  said  he,  in  his  usual  quiet  tone,  "here  is  an 
order  from  the  adjutant-general  to  send  you  back  under 
an  escort  to  head-quarters.  Are  you  aware  of  any  reason 
for  it,  or  is  there  any  charge  against  you  which  warrants 
this?" 

"  Xot  to  my  knowledge,  mon  capitaine^'"  said  I,  trembling 
with  fright,  for  I  well  knew  with  what  severity  discipline 
was  exercised  in  that  army,  and  how  any,  even  the  slightest, 
infractions  met  the  heaviest  penalties. 

"  I  have  never  known  you  to  pillage,"  continued  he,  "  have 
never  seen  you  drink,  nor  have  you  been  disobedient  while 
under  m}^  command ;  yet  this  order  could  not  be  issued  on 
light  grounds.  There  must  be  some  grave  accusation  against 
you,  and  in  any  case  you  must  go ;  therefore  arrange  all  my 
papers,  put  everything  to  rights,  and  be  ready  to  return  with 
the  orderly." 

"  You'll  give  me  a  good  character,  mon  ccqntaine,''  said  I, 
trembling  more  than  ever,  —  ' '  you  '11  say  what  you  can  for 
me,  I  'm  sure  ?  " 

"  Willingly,  if  the  general  or  chief  were  here,"  replied  he ; 
"  but  that 's  not  so.  General  Moreau  is  at  Strasbourg.  It 
is  General  Regnier  that  is  in  command  of  the  army,  and 
unless  specially  applied  to,  I  could  not  venture  upon  the 
liberty  of  obtruding  my  opinion  upon  him." 

"Is  he  so  severe,  sir?  "  asked  I,  timidly. 

"  The  general  is  a  good  disciplinarian,"  said  he,  cautiously, 
while  he  motioned  with  his  hand  towards  the  door;  and 
accepting  the  hint,  I  retu-ed. 

It  was  evening  when  I  re-entered  Kehl,  under  an  escort 
of  two  of  my  own  regiment,  and  was  conducted  to  the 
Salle  de  Police.  At  the  door  stood  my  old  corporal,  whose 
malicious  grin,  as  I  alighted,   revealed  the  whole  story  of 


140  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

my  arrest ;  and  I  now  knew  the  charge  that  would  be  pre- 
ferred against  me  —  a  heavier  there  could  not  be  made  —  was 
"  disobedience  in  the  field."  I  slept  very  little  that  night, 
and  when  I  did  close  my  eyes  it  was  to  awake  with  a  sudden 
start,  and  believe  myself  in  presence  of  the  com't-martial, 
or  listening  to  my  sentence  as  read  out  by  the  president. 
Towards  day,  however,  I  sunk  into  a  heavy,  deep  slumber, 
from  which  I  was  aroused  by  the  reveillee  of  the  barracks. 

I  had  barel}"  time  to  dress  when  I  was  summoned  before  the 
Tribunale  Militake,  —  a  sort  of  permanent  court-martial, 
whose  sittings  were  held  in  one  of  the  churches  of  the  town. 
Not  even  all  the  terror  of  my  own  precarious  position  could 
overcome  the  effect  of  old  prejudices  in  my  mind,  as  I  saw 
myself  led  up  the  dim  aisle  of  the  church  towards  the  altar 
rails,  within  which,  around  a  large  table,  were  seated  a 
number  of  officers,  whose  manner  and  bearing  evinced  but 
little  reverence  for  the  sacred  character  of  the  spot. 

Stationed  in  a  group  of  poor  wretches  whose  wan  looks 
and  anxious  glances  told  that  they  were  prisoners  like  my- 
self, I  had  time  to  see  what  was  going  forward  around  me. 
The  President,  who  alone  wore  his  hat,  read  from  a  sort  of 
list  before  him  the  name  of  a  prisoner  and  that  of  the 
witnesses  in  the  cause.  In  an  instant  the}^  were  all  drawn 
up  and  sworn.  A  few  questions  followed,  rapidly  put,  and 
almost  as  rapidly  replied  to.  The  prisoner  was  called  on 
then  for  his  defence  :  if  this  occupied  many  minutes,  he  was 
sure  to  be  interrupted  by  an  order  to  be  brief.  Then  came 
the  command  to  "stand  by;"  and  after  a  few  seconds' 
consultation  together,  in  which  many  times  a  burst  of  laugh- 
ter might  be  heard,  the  court  agreed  upon  the  sentence, 
recorded  and  signed  it,  and  then  proceeded  with  the  next 
case. 

If  nothing  in  the  procedure  imposed  reverence  or  respect, 
there  was  that  in  the  dispatch  which  suggested  terror,  for  it 
was  plain  to  see  that  the  Court  thought  more  of  the  cost  of 
their  own  precious  minutes  than  of  the  years  of  those  on 
whose  fate  they  were  deciding.  I  was  sufficiently  near  to 
hear  the  charges  of  those  who  were  arraigned,  and,  for  the 
greater  number,  they  were  all  alike.  Pillage,  in  one  form  or 
another,  was  the  universal  offending ;   and  from  the  burning 


A  FAKEWELL  LETTER.  141 

of  a  peasant's  cottage  to  the  theft  of  his  dog  or  his  pou- 
let^  all  came  under  this  head.  At  last  came  No.  82,  — 
''Maurice  Tiernay,  hussar  of  the  Ninth."  I  stepped 
forward  to  the  rails. 

''Maurice  Tiernay,"  read  the  President,  hurriedly, 
"  accused  by  Louis  Gaussin,  corporal  of  the  same  regiment, 
'  of  wilfully  deserting  his  post  while  on  duty  in  the  field,  and 
in  the  face  of  direct  orders  to  the  contrary ;  inducing  others 
to  a  similar  breach  of  discipline.'   Make  the  charge,  Gaussin." 

The  corporal  stepped  forward,  and  began  :  — 

"We  were  stationed  in  detachment  on  the  bank  of  the 
Rhine,  on  the  evening  of  the  23d  — " 

"The  Court  has  too  many  duties  to  lose  its  time  for 
nothing,"  interrupted  I.  "It  is  all  true.  I  did  desert  my 
post,  I  did  disobey  orders ;  and  seeing  a  weak  point  in  the 
enemy's  line,  attacked  and  carried  it  with  success.  The 
charge  is,  therefore,  admitted  by  me,  and  it  only  remains  for 
the  Court  to  decide  how  far  a  soldier's  zeal  for  his  country 
may  be  deserving  of  punishment.  Whatever  the  result,  one 
thing  is  perfectly  clear,  —  Corporal  Gaussin  will  never  be 
indicted  for  a  similar  misdemeanor." 

A  murmur  of  voices  and  suppressed  laughter  followed  this 
impertinent  and  not  over-discreet  sally  of  mine,  and  the 
President,  calling  out  "Proven  by  acknowledgment,"  told 
me  to  "  stand  by."  I  now  fell  back  to  my  former  place,  to 
be  interrogated  by  my  comrades  on  the  result  of  my  exami- 
nation, and  hear  their  exclamations  of  surprise  and  terror  at 
the  rashness  of  my  conduct.  A  little  reflection  over  the 
cii'cumstances  would  probably  have  brought  me  over  to  their 
opinion,  and  shown  me  that  I  had  gratuitously  thrown  away 
an  opportunity  of  self-defence;  but  my  temper  could  not 
brook  the  indignity  of  listening  to  the  tiresome  accusation 
and  the  stupid  malevolence  of  the  corporal,  whose  hatred  was 
excited  by  the  influence  I  wielded  over  my  comrades. 

It  was  long  past  noon  ere  the  proceedings  terminated,  for 
the  list  was  a  fulf  one ;  and  at  length  the  Court  rose,  appar- 
ently not  sorry  to  exchange  their  tiresome  duties  for  the 
pleasant  offices  of  the  dinner-table.  No  sentences  had  been 
pronounced,  but  one  very  striking  incident  seemed  to 
shadow  forth  a  gloomy  future.     Three,  of  whom  I  was  one. 


142  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

were  marched  off,  doubly  guarded,  before  the  rest,  and  con- 
fined in  separate  cells  of  the  Salle,  where  every  precaution 
against  escape  too  plainly  showed  the  importance  attached 
to  our  safe  keeping. 

At  about  eight  o'clock,  as  I  was  sitting  on  my  bed,  —  if 
that  inclined  plane  of  wood,  worn  by  the  form  of  many  a 
former  prisoner,  could  deserve  the  name,  —  a  sergeant 
entered  with  the  prison  allowance  of  bread  and  water.  He 
placed  it  beside  me  without  speaking,  and  stood  for  a  few 
seconds  gazing  at  me. 

"What  age  art  thou,  lad?"  said  he,  in  a  voice  of  com- 
passionate interest. 

"  Something  over  fifteen,  I  believe,"  replied  I. 

"  Hast  father  and  mother?  " 

"  Both  are  dead." 

"  Uncles  or  aunts  living?  " 

"Neither." 

' '  Hast  any  friends  who  could  help  thee  ?  " 

' '  That  might  depend  on  what  the  occasion  for  help  should 
prove,  for  I  have  one  friend  in  the  world." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  Colonel  Mahon,  of  the  Cuirassiers." 

"  I  never  heard  of  him  ;  is  he  here?  " 

"  No,  I  left  him  at  Nancy ;  but  I  could  write  to  him." 

"  It  would  be  too  late,  much  too  late." 

"  How  do  you  mean  —  too  late?  "  asked  I,  tremblingly. 

"  Because  it  is  fixed  for  to-morrow  evening,"  replied  he,  in 
a  low,  hesitating  voice. 

"What?  the  —  the  —  "I  could  not  say  the  word,  but 
merely  imitated  the  motion  of  presenting  and  firing.  He 
nodded  gravely  in  acquiescence. 

"  What  hour  is  it  to  take  place?  "  asked  I. 

"  After  evening  parade.  The  sentence  must  be  signed  by 
General  Berthier,  and  he  will  not  be  here  before  that  time." 

"It  would  be  too  late  then,  sergeant,"  said  I,  musing, 
"far  too  late.  Still,  I  should  like  to  write  the  letter;  I 
should  like  to  thank  him  for  his  kindness  in  the  past,  and 
show  him,  too,  that  I  have  not  been  either  unworthy  or  un- 
grateful.    Could  you  let  me  have  paper  and  pen,  sergeant?  " 

' '  I  can  venture  so  far,  lad ;  but  I  cannot  let  thee  have  a 


A  FAREWELL  LETTER.  143 

light,  it  is  against  orders  ;  and  during  the  day  thou  'It  be  too 
strictly  watched." 

"  Xo  matter ;  let  me  have  the  paper  and  I  '11  try  to  scratch 
a  few  lines  in  the  dark ;  and  thou  'It  post  it  for  me,  sergeant? 
I  ask  thee  as  a  last  favor  to  do  this." 

"I  promise  it,"  said  he,  laying  his  hand  on  my  shoulder. 
After  standing  for  a  few  minutes  thus  in  silence,  he  started 
suddenly  and  left  the  cell. 

I  now  tried  to  eat  my  supper,  but  although  resolved  on 
behaving  with  a  stout  and  unflinching  courage  throughout 
the  whole  sad  event,  I  could  not  swallow  a  mouthful.  A 
sense  of  choking  stopped  me  at  every  attempt,  and  even  the 
water  I  could  only  get  down  by  gulps.  The  efforts  I  made 
to  bear  up  seemed  to  have  caused  a  species  of  hysterical 
excitement  that  actually  rose  to  the  height  of  intoxication, 
for  I  talked  away  loudly  to  myself,  laughed,  and  sung.  I 
even  jested  and  mocked  myself  on  this  sudden  termination  of 
a  career  that  I  used  to  anticipate  as  stored  with  future  fame 
and  rewards.  At  intervals  I  have  no  doubt  that  my  mind 
wandered  far  beyond  the  control  of  reason,  but  as  constantly 
came  back  again  to  a  full  consciousness  of  my  melancholy 
position  and  the  fate  that  awaited  me.  The  noise  of  the 
key  in  the  door  silenced  my  ravings,  and  I  sat  still  and 
motionless  as  the  sergeant  entered  with  the  pen,  ink,  and 
paper,  which  he  laid  down  upon  the  bed,  and  then  as  silently 
withdrew. 

A  long  interval  of  stupor,  a  state  of  dreary  half  conscious- 
ness, now  came  over  me,  from  which  I  aroused  myself  with 
great  difficulty  to  write  the  few  lines  I  destined  for  Colonel 
Mahon.  I  remember  even  now,  long  as  has  been  the  space 
of  years  since  that  event,  full  as  it  has  been  of  stirring  and 
strange  incidents,  — I  remember  perfectly  the  thought  which 
flashed  across  me  as  I  sat,  pen  in  hand,  before  the  paper.  It 
was  the  notion  of  a  certain  resemblance  between  our  actions 
in  this  world  with  the  characters  I  was  about  to  inscribe 
upon  that  paper.  Written  in  darkness  and  in  doubt,  thought 
I,  how  shall  they  appear  when  brought  to  the  light  ?  Per- 
haps those  I  have  deemed  the  best  and  fairest  shall  seem  but 
to  be  the  weakest  or  the  worst !  What  need  of  kindness  to 
forgive  the  errors,  and  of  patience  to  endure  the  ignorance ! 
At  last  I  began. 


144  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

"  MoN  Colonel,  —  Forgive,  I  pray  you,  the  errors  of  these  lines, 
penned  in  the  darkness  of  my  cell,  and  the  night  before  my  death. 
They  are  written  to  thank  you  ere  I  go  hence,  and  to  tell  you  that 
the  poor  heart  whose  beating  will  soon  be  still,  throbbed  gratefully 
towards  you  to  the  last !  I  have  been  sentenced  to  death  for  a 
breach  of  discipline  of  which  I  was  g"uilty.  Had  I  failed  in  the 
achievement  of  my  enterprise  by  the  bullet  of  an  enemy,  they 
would  have  named  me  with  honor ;  but  I  have  had  the  misfortune 
of  success,  and  to-morrow  am  I  to  pay  its  penalty.  I  have  the 
satisfaction,  however,  of  knowing  that  my  share  in  that  great  day 
can  neither  be  denied  nor  evaded  ;  it  is  already  on  record,  and  the 
time  may  yet  come  when  my  memory  will  be  vindicated.  I  know 
not  if  these  lines  be  legible,  nor  if  I  have  crossed  or  recrossed 
them.  If  they  are  blotted,  they  are  not  my  tears  have  done  it,  for 
I  have  a  firm  heart  and  a  good  courage ;  and  when  the  moment 
comes  —  " 

Here  my  hand  trembled  so  much,  and  my  brain  grew  so 
dizzy,  that  I  lost  the  thread  of  my  meaning,  and  merely 
jotted  down  at  random  a  few  words,  vague,  unconnected, 
and  unintelligible  ;  after  which,  and  by  an  effort  that  cost  all 
my  strength,  I  wrote  "  Maurice  Tiernay,  late  hussar  of  the 
Ninth  Regiment." 

A  hearty  bui'st  of  tears  followed  the  conclusion  of  this 
letter;  all  the  pent-up  emotion  with  which  my  heart  was 
charged  broke  out  at  last,  and  I  cried  bitterly.  Intense 
passions  are,  happily,  never  of  long  duration,  and,  better 
still,  they  are  always  the  precui'sors  of  calm.  Thus  tranquil, 
the  dawn  of  morn  broke  upon  me,  when  the  sergeant  came 
to  take  my  letter,  and  apprise  me  that  the  adjutant  would 
appear  in  a  few  moments  to  read  my  sentence,  and  inform 
me  when  it  was  to  be  executed. 

"  Thou  'It  bear  up  well,  lad  ;  I  know  thou  wilt,"  said  the 
poor  fellow,  with  tears  in  his  eyes.  "  Thou  hast  no  mother, 
and  thou  'It  not  have  to  grieve  for  her." 

"Don't  be  afraid,  sergeant;  I'll  not  disgrace  the  old 
Ninth.     Tell  my  comrades  I  said  so." 

"  I  will.     I  will  tell  them  all !     Is  this  thy  jacket,  lad? " 

"  Yes  ;  what  do  you  want  it  for?  " 

"  I  must  take  it  away  with  me.  Thou  art  not  to  wear  it 
more." 

"  Not  wear  it,  nor  die  in  it !  and  why  not?  " 


A  FAREWELL  LETTER.  145 

"That  is  the  sentence,  lad;  I  cannot  help  it.  It 's  very 
hard,  very  cruel;  but  so  it  is." 

' '  Then  I  am  to  die  dishonored,  sergeant !  is  that  the 
sentence  ?  " 

He  dropped  his  head,  and  I  could  see  that  he  moved  his 
sleeve  across  his  eyes ;  and  then,  taking  up  my  jacket,  he 
came  towards  me. 

"Remember,  lad!  a  stout  heart;  no  flinching.  Adieu! 
God  bless  thee."  He  kissed  me  on  either  cheek,  and  went 
out. 

He  had  not  been  gone  many  minutes  when  the  tramp  of 
marching  outside  apprised  me  of  the  coming  of  the  adjutant, 
and  the  door  of  my  cell  being  thrown  open  I  was  ordered  to 
walk  forth  into  the  court  of  the  prison.  Two  squadrons  of 
my  own  regiment,  all  who  were  not  on  duty,  were  drawn  up, 
dismounted,  and  without  arms ;  beside  them  stood  a  com- 
pany of  grenadiers  and  a  half  battalion  of  the  line,  the  corps 
to  which  the  other  two  prisoners  belonged,  and  who  now 
came  forward,  in  shirt-sleeves  like  myself,  into  the  middle  of 
the  court. 

One  of  my  fellow-sufferers  was  a  very  old  soldier,  whose 
hair  and  beard  were  white  as  snow ;  the  other  was  a  middle- 
aged  man,  of  a  dark  and  forbidding  aspect,  who  scowled  at 
me  angrily  as  I  came  up  to  his  side,  and  seemed  as  if  he 
scorned  the  companionship.  I  returned  a  glance,  haughty 
and  as  full  of  defiance  as  his  own,  and  never  noticed  him 
after. 

The  drum  beat  a  roll,  and  the  word  was  given  for  silence 
in  the  ranks,  —  an  order  so  strictly  obeyed  that  even  the 
clash  of  a  weapon  was  unheard,  —  and  stepping  in  front  of 
the  line,  the  Auditeur  Militaire  read  out  the  sentences.  As 
for  me,  I  heard  but  the  words  "  Peine  afflictive  et  infamante  ;  " 
all  the  rest  became  confusion,  shame,  and  terror  commingled ; 
nor  did  I  know  that  the  ceremonial  was  over  when  the  troops 
began  to  defile,  and  we  were  marched  back  again  to  our 
prison  quarters. 


10 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A    SURPRISE   AND    AN   ESCAPE. 

It  is  a  very  common  subject  of  remark  in  newspapers,  and  as 
invariably  repeated  with  astonishment  by  the  readers,  how 
well  and  soundly  such  a  criminal  slept  on  the  night  before  his 
execution.  It  reads  like  a  wonderful  evidence  of  composure, 
or  some  not  less  surprising  proof  of  apathy  or  indifference. 
I  really  believe  it  has  as  little  relation  to  one  feeling  as  to 
the  other,  and  is  simply  the  natural  consequence  of  faculties 
over-strained,  and  a  brain  surcharged  with  blood,  —  sleep 
being  induced  by  causes  pui-ely  physical  in  their  nature. 
For  myself,  I  can  say  that  I  was  by  no  means  indifferent  to 
life,  nor  had  I  any  contempt  for  the  form  of  death  that 
awaited  me.  As  localities  which  have  failed  to  inspire  a 
strong  attachment  become  endowed  with  a  certain  degree 
of  interest  when  we  are  about  to  part  from  them  forever, 
I  never  held  life  so  desirable  as  now  that  I  was  going  to 
leave  it ;  and  yet,  with  all  this,  I  fell  into  a  sleep  so  heavy 
and  profound  that  I  never  awoke  till  late  in  the  evening. 
Twice  was  I  shaken  by  the  shoulder  ere  I  could  throw  off 
the  heavy  weight  of  slumber ;  and  even  when  I  looked  up, 
and  saw  the  armed  figures  around  me,  I  could  have  lain  down 
once  more  and  composed  myself  to  another  sleep. 

The  first  thing  which  thoroughly  aroused  me,  and  at  once 
brightened  up  my  slumbering  senses,  was  missing  my  jacket, 
for  which  I  searched  every  corner  of  my  cell,  —  forgetting 
that  it  had  been  taken  away,  as  the  nature  of  my  sentence 
was  declared  iiifamante.  The  next  shock  was  still  greater, 
when  two  sapeurs  came  foi*ward  to  tie  my  wrists  together 
behind  my  back ;  I  neither  spoke  nor  resisted,  but  in  silent 
submission  complied  with  each  order  given  me. 

All  preliminaries  being  completed,  I  was  led  forward,  pre- 
ceded by  a  pioneer  and  guarded  on  either  side  by  two  sapeurs 


A  SURPRISE  AND  AN  ESCAPE.  147 

of  the  guard,  a  muffled  drum,  ten  paces  in  advance,  keep- 
ino-  up  a  low  monotonous  rumble  as  we  went. 

Our  way  led  along  the  ramparts,  beside  which  ran  a  row 
of  little  gardens,  in  which  the  children  of  the  officers  were  at 
play.  They  ceased  then-  childish  gambols  as  we  drew  near, 
and  came  closer  up  to  watch  us.  I  could  mark  the  terror  and 
pity  in  their  little  faces  as  they  gazed  at  me  ;  I  could  see  the 
traits  of  compassion  with  which  they  pointed  me  out  to  each 
other,  and  my  heart  swelled  with  gratitude  for  even  so  slight 
a  sympathy.  It  was  with  difficulty  I  could  restrain  the  emo- 
tion of  that  moment ;  but  with  a  great  effort  I  did  subdue  it, 
and  marched  on,  to  all  seeming,  unmoved.  A  little  farther 
on,  as  we  turned  the  angle  of  the  wall,  I  looked  back  to  catch 
one  last  look  at  them.  Would  that  I  had  never  done  so ! 
They  had  quitted  the  railings,  and  were  now  standing  in  a 
group,  in  the  act  of  performing  a  mimic  execution.  One, 
without  his  jacket,  was  kneeling  on  the  grass.  But  I  could 
not  bear  the  sight,  and  in  scornful  anger  I  closed  my  ej^es, 
and  saw  no  more. 

A  low  whispering  conversation  was  kept  up  by  the  soldiers 
around  me.  They  were  grumbling  at  the  long  distance  they 
had  to  march,  as  the  "  affak"  might  just  as  well  have  taken 
place  on  the  glacis  as  two  miles  away.  How  different  were 
my  feelings !  how  dear  to  me  was  now  every  minute,  every 
second  of  existence !  how  my  heart  leaped  at  each  turn  of 
the  way,  as  I  still  saw  a  space  to  traverse  and  some  little 
interval  longer  to  live ! 

"And  mayhap  after  all,"  muttered  one  dark-faced  fellow, 
"we  shall  have  come  all  this  way  for  nothing.  There  can 
be  no  '  fusillade '  without  the  general's  signature,  so  I  heard 
the  adjutant  say  ;  and  who  's  to  promise  that  he  '11  be  at  his 
quarters  ?  " 

"  Very  true,"  said  another ;  "  he  may  be  absent,  or  at  table." 

"  At  table  !  "  cried  two  or  three  together ;  "  and  what  if  he 
were  ?  " 

"  If  he  be,"  rejoined  the  former  speaker,  "  we  may  go  back 
again  for  our  pains  !  I  ought  to  know  him  well ;  I  was  his 
orderly  for  eight  months,  when  I  sel'^'ed  in  the  '  Legers,'  and 
can  tell  you,  my  lads,  I  would  n't  be  the  officer  who  would 
bring  him  a  report  or  a  return  to  sign  when  once  he  had 


148  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

opened  out  his  napkin  on  his  knee ;  and  it 's  not  very  far 
from  his  dinner-hour  now." 

What  a  sudden  thrill  of  hope  ran  through  me !  Perhaps 
I  should  be  spared  for  another  day. 

"  No,  no,  we  're  all  in  time,"  exclaimed  the  sergeant ;  "I 
can  see  the  general's  tent  from  this;  and  there  he  stands 
with  all  his  staff  around  him." 

"Yes;  and  there  go  the  other  escorts,  — they  will  be  up 
before  us  if  we  don't  make  haste  ;  quick-time,  lads  !  Come 
along,  mon  cher^'"  said  he,  addressing  me;  "thou'rt  not 
tired,  I  hope?" 

"Not  tired!"  replied  I;  "but  remember,  sergeant,  what 
a  long  journey  I  have  before  me." 

"Pa?T?/e/  I  don't  believe  all  that  rhodomontade  about 
another  world,"  said  he,  gruffly;  "the  Republic  settled  that 
question." 

I  made  no  reply,  for  such  words  at  such  a  moment  were 
the  most  terrible  of  tortures  to  me.  And  now  we  moved  on 
at  a  brisker  pace,  and  crossing  a  little  wooden  bridge  entered 
a  kind  of  esplanade  of  closely-shaven  turf,  at  one  corner  of 
which  stood  the  capacious  tent  of  the  commander-in-chief,  for 
such  in  Moreau's  absence  was  General  Berthier.  Numbers 
of  staff-officers  were  riding  about  on  duty,  and  a  large  travel- 
ling-carriage, from  which  the  horses  seemed  recently  detached, 
stood  before  the  tent. 

We  halted  as  we  crossed  the  bridge,  while  the  adjutant 
advanced  to  obtain  the  signature  to  the  sentence.  My  eyes 
followed  him  till  they  swam  with  rising  tears,  and  I  could 
not  wipe  them  away,  as  my  hands  were  fettered.  How 
rapidly  did  my  thoughts  travel  during  those  few  moments ! 
The  good  old  Pere  Michel  came  back  to  me  in  memory, 
and  I  tried  to  think  of  the  consolation  his  presence  would 
have  afforded  me ;  but  I  could  do  no  more  than  think  of 
them. 

' '  Which  is  the  prisoner  Tiernay  ?  "  cried  a  young  aide-de- 
camp, cantering  up  to  where  I  was  standing. 

"Here,  sir,"  replied  the  sergeant,  pushing  me  forward. 

"So,"  rejoined  the  officer,  angrily,  "this  fellow  has  been 
writing  letters,  it  would  seem,  reflecting  upon  the  justice  of 
his  sentence,  and  arraigning  the  conduct  of  his  judges.    Your 


A   SUEPRISE   AND  AN  ESCAPE.  149 

epistolary  tastes  are  like  to  cost  you  dearly,  my  lad ;  it  had 
been  better  for  you  if  writing  had  been  omitted  in  your 
education.  Reconduct  the  others,  sergeant, — they  are 
respited;  this  fellow  alone  is  to  undergo  his  sentence." 

The  other  two  prisoners  gave  a  short  and  simultaneous 
cry  of  joy  as  they  fell  back,  and  I  stood  alone  in  front  of  the 
escort. 

^^  Parhleu!  he  has  forgotten  the'  signature,"  said  the  ad- 
jutant, casting  his  ej^e  over  the  paper ;  "he  was  chattering 
and  laughing  all  the  time,  with  the  pen  in  his  hand,  and  I 
suppose  fancied  that  he  had  signed  it." 

"Nathalie  was  there,  perhaps,"  said  the  aide-de-camp, 
significantly. 

"  She  was,  and  I  never  saw  her  looking  better.  It 's  some- 
thing like  eight  years  since  I  saw  her  last ;  and  I  vow  she 
seems  not  only  handsomer  but  fresher  and  more  youthful 
to-day  than  then." 

"  Where  is  she  going,  —  have  you  heard?  " 

"  Who  can  tell?  Her  passport  is  like  a  firman,  —  she  may 
travel  where  she  pleases.  The  rumor  of  the  day  says 
Italy." 

"  I  thought  she  looked  provoked  at  Moreau's  absence  ;  it 
seemed  like  want  of  attention  on  his  part,  a  lack  of  courtesy 
she  's  not  used  to." 

' '  Very  true  ;  and  her  reception  of  Berthier  was  anything 
but  gracious,  although  he  certainly  displayed  all  his  civilities 
in  her  behalf." 

"Strange  days  we  live  in!"  sighed  the  other,  "when 
a  man's  promotion  hangs  upon  the  favorable  word  of 
a—" 

"Hush!  take  care!  be  cautious!"  whispered  the  other. 
"  Let  us  not  forget  this  poor  fellow's  business.  How  are  you 
to  settle  it?  Is  the  signature  of  any  consequence?  The 
whole  sentence  is  all  right  and  regular." 

"  I  should  n't  like  to  omit  the  signature,"  said  the  other, 
cautiously ;  "it  looks  like  carelessness,  and  might  involve  us 
in  trouble  hereafter." 

"  Then  we  must  wait  some  time,  for  I  see  they  are  gone  to 
dinner." 

"  So  I  perceive,"  replied  the  former,  as   he   lighted   his 


150  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

cigar,  and  seated  himself  on  a  bank.  ' '  You  may  let  the 
prisoner  sit  down,  sergeant,  and  leave  his  hands  free :  he 
looks  wearied   and  exhausted." 

I  was  too  weak  to  speak,  but  I  looked  my  gratitude ; 
and  sitting  down  upon  the  grass,  covered  my  face  and  wept 
heartily. 

Although  quite  close  to  where  the  officers  sat  together 
chatting  and  jesting,  I  heard  little  or  nothing  of  what  they 
said.  Already  the  things  of  life  had  ceased  to  have  any  hold 
upon  me ;  and  I  could  have  heard  of  the  greatest  victory,  or 
listened  to  a  story  of  the  most  fatal  defeat,  without  the 
slightest  interest  or  emotion.  An  occasional  word  or  a  name 
would  strike  upon  my  ear,  but  leave  no  impression  nor  any 
memory  behind  it. 

The  military  band  was  performing  various  marches  and 
opera  airs  before  the  tent  where  the  general  dined;  and  in 
the  melod}',  softened  by  distance,  I  felt  a  kind  of  calm  and 
sleepy  repose  that  lulled  me  into  a  species  of  ecstasy. 

At  last  the  music  ceased  to  play,  and  the  adjutant,  starting 
hurried W  up,  called  on  the  sergeant  to  move  forward. 

"By  Jove!"  cried  he,  "they  seem  preparing  for  a  pro- 
menade, and  we  shall  get  into  a  scrape  if  Berthier  sees  us 
here.  Keep  your  party  yonder,  sergeant,  out  of  sight,  till  I 
obtain  the  signature." 

And  so  saying,  away  he  went  towards  the  tent  at  a  sharp 
gallop. 

A  few  seconds,  and  I  watched  him  crossing  the  esplanade ; 
he  dismounted  and  disappeared.  A  terrible  choking  sen- 
sation was  over  me,  and  I  scarcely  was  conscious  that  they 
were  again  tying  my  hands.  The  adjutant  came  out  again, 
and  made  a  sign  with  his  sword. 

"We  are  to  move  on?"  said  the  sergeant,  half  in  doubt. 

"  Not  at  all,"  broke  in  the  aide-de-camp ;  "  he  is  making  a 
sign  for  you  to  bring  up  the  prisoner.  There,  he  is  repeating 
the  signal,  — lead  him  forward." 

I  knew  very  little  of  how,  less  still  of  why ;  but  we  moved 
on  in  the  direction  of  the  tent,  and  in  a  few  minutes  stood 
before  it.  The  sounds  of  revelry  and  laughter,  the  crash  of 
voices  and  the  clink  of  glasses,  together  with  the  hoarseness 
of  the  brass  band,  which  again  struck  up,  —  all  were  com- 


A  SURPRISE   AND  AN  ESCAPE.  151 

mingled  in  my  brain,  as  taking  me  by  tlie  arm  I  was  led  for- 
ward within  the  tent,  and  found  myself  at  the  foot  of  a  table 
covered  with  all  the  gorgeousness  of  silver  plate,  and  glow- 
ing with  bouquets  of  flowers  and  fruits.  In  the  one  hasty 
glance  I  gave,  before  my  lids  fell  over  my  swimming  eyes,  I 
could  see  the  splendid  uniforms  of  the  guests  as  they  sat 
around  the  board,  and  the  magnificent  costume  of  a  lady  in 
the  place  of  honor  next  the  head. 

Several  of  those  who  sat  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table 
drew  back  their  seats  as  I  came  foi'ward,  and  seemed  as  if 
desirous  to  give  the  general  a  better  view  of  me. 

Overwhelmed  by  the  misery  of  my  fate,  as  I  stood  awaiting 
my  death,  I  felt  as  though  a  mere  word,  a  look,  would  have 
crushed  me  but  one  moment  back ;  but  now,  as  I  stood  there 
before  that  group  of  gazers,  whose  eyes  scanned  me  with  looks 
of  insolent  disdain  or  still  more  insulting  curiosity,  a  sense 
of  proud  defiance  seized  me  to  confront  and  dare  them  with 
glances  haughty  and  scornful  as  their  own.  It  seemed  to  me 
so  base  and  unworthy  a  part  to  summon  a  poor  wretch 
before  them,  as  if  to  whet  their  new  appetite  for  enjoyment 
by  the  aspect  of  his  misery,  that  an  indignant  anger  took 
possession  of  me,  and  I  drew  myself  up  to  my  full  height, 
and  stared  at  them  calm  and  steadily. 

"  So,  then,"  cried  a  deep  soldier-like  voice  from  the  far 
end  of  the  table,  which  I  at  once  recognized  as  the  general- 
in-chiefs,  —  "so,  then,  gentlemen,  we  have  now  the  honor 
of  seeing  amongst  us  the  hero  of  the  Rhine !  This  is  the 
distinguished  individual  by  whose  prowess  the  passage  of  the 
river  was  effected,  and  the  Swabian  infantry  cut  off  in  their 
retreat!  Is  it  not  true,  sir?"  said  he,  addressing  me  with  a 
savage  scowl. 

"  I  have  had  my  share  in  the  achievement,"  said  I  with 
the  cool  air  of  defiance. 

"  Parhleu!  you  are  modest,  sir.  So  had  every  drummer- 
boy  that  beat  his  tattoo  !  But  yours  was  the  part  of  a  great 
leader,  if  I  err  not?  " 

I  made  no  answer,  but  stood  firm  and  unmoved. 

"  How  do  you  call  the  island  which  you  have  immortalized 
by  your  valor  ?  " 

"The  Fels  Insel,  sir." 


152  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"Gentlemen,  let  us  drink  to  the  hero  of  the  Fels  Insel," 
said  he,  holding  up  his  glass  for  the  servant  to  fill  it.  "A 
bumper,  —  a  full,  a  flowing  bumper!  And  let  him  also 
pledge  a  toast  in  which  his  interest  must  be  so  brief.  Give 
him  a  glass,  Contard." 

The  order  was  obeyed  in  a  second ;  and  I,  summoning  up 
all  my  courage  to  seem  as  easy  and  indifferent  as  they  were, 
lifted  the  glass  to  my  lips,  and  drained  it  off. 

"  Another  glass  now  to  the  health  of  this  fail-  lady,  through 
whose  intercession  we  owe  the  pleasure  of  your  company," 
said  the  general. 

"  Willingly,"  said  I;  "  and  may  one  so  beautiful  seldom 
find  herself  in  a  society  so  unworthy  of  her !  " 

A  perfect  roar  of  laughter  succeeded  the  insolence  of  this 
speech ;  amid  which  I  was  half  pushed,  half  dragged,  up  to 
the  end  of  the  table,  where  the  general  sat. 

"How  so,  coquin!  do  you  dare  to  insult  a  French  gen- 
eral, at  the  head  of  his  own  staff !  " 

"  If  I  did  sir,  it  were  quite  as  brave  as  to  mock  a  poor 
criminal  on  the  way  to  his  execution !  " 

' '  That  is  the  boy !  I  know  him  now,  —  the  very  same 
lad !  "  cried  the  lady,  as,  stooping  behind  Berthier's  chair, 
she  stretched  out  her  hand  towards  me.  "Come  here;  are 
you  not  Colonel  Mahon's  godson  ?  " 

I  looked  her  full  in  the  face  ;  and  whether  her  own  thoughts 
gave  the  impulse,  or  that  something  in  my  stare  suggested  it, 
she  blushed  till  her  cheek  grew  crimson. 

' '  Poor  Charles  was  so  fond  of  him !  "  whispered  she  in 
Berthier's  ear ;  and  as  she  spoke,  the  expression  of  her 
face  at  once  recalled  where  I  had  seen  her,  and  I  now  per- 
ceived that  she  was  the  same  person  I  had  seen  at  table  with 
Colonel  Mahon,  and  whom  I  believed  to  be  his  wife. 

A  low  whispering  conversation  now  ensued  between  the 
general  and  her,  at  the  close  of  which  he  turned  to  me  and 
said,  — 

"Madame  Merlancourt  has  deigned  to  take  an  interest  in 
you ;  you  are  pardoned.  Remember,  sir,  to  whom  you  owe 
your  life,  and  be  grateful  to  her  for  it." 

I  took  the  hand  she  extended  towards  me,  and  pressed  it 
to  my  lips. 


A  SURPKISE  AND  AN  ESCAPE.  153 

"  Madame,"  said  I,  "  there  is  but  one  favor  more  I  would 
ask  in  this  world,  and  with  it  I  could  think  myself  happy." 

"  But  can  I  grant  it,  moncher?  "  said  she,  smiling. 

"  If  I  am  to  judge  from  the  influence  I  have  seen  you 
wield,  madame,  here  and  elsewhere,  this  petition  will  easily 
be  accorded." 

A  slight  flush  colored  the  lady's  cheek,  while  that  of 
the  general  became  dyed  red  with  anger.  I  saw  that  I  had 
committed  some  terrible  blunder,  but  how  or  in  what  I  knew 
not. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Madame  Merlancourt,  addressing  me 
with  a  stately  coldness  of  manner,  very  different  from  her 
former  tone,  "  let  us  hear  w^hat  you  ask,  for  we  are  already 
taking  up  a  vast  deal  of  time  that  our  host  would  prefer 
devoting  to  his  friends :  what  is  it  you  wish  ? " 

"My  discharge  from  a  service,  madame,  where  zeal  and 
enthusiasm  are  rewarded  with  infamy  and  disgrace ;  my 
freedom  to  be  anything  but  a  French  soldier." 

"  You  are  resolved,  sir,  that  I  am  not  to  be  proud  of  my 
protege,"  said  she,  haughtily  ;  "  what  words  are  these  to  speak 
in  presence  of  a  general  and  his  officers  ?  " 

"  I  am  bold,  madame,  as  you  say,  but  I  am  wronged." 

"How  so,  sir?  In  what  have  you  been  injured?"  cried 
the  general,  hastily,  ' '  except  in  the  excessive  condescension 
which  has  stimulated  your  presumption.  But  we  are  really 
too  indulgent  in  this  long  parley.  Madame,  permit  me  to 
offer  you  some  coffee  under  the  trees.  Contardo,  tell  the 
band  to  follow  us.  Gentlemen,  we  expect  the  pleasure  of 
your  society." 

And  so  saying,  Berthier  presented  his  arm  to  the  lady,  who 
swept  proudly  past  without  deigning  to  notice  me.  In  a 
few  minutes  the  tent  was  cleared  of  all  except  the  servants 
occupied  in  removing  the  remains  of  the  dessert ;  and  I  fell 
back,  unremarked  and  unobserved,  to  take  my  way  home- 
ward to  the  ban'acks,  more  indifferent  to  life  than  ever  I  had 
been  afraid  of  death. 

As  I  am  not  likely  to  recur  at  any  length  to  the  somewhat 
famous  person  to  whom  I  owed  my  life,  I  may  as  well  state 
that  her  name  has  since  occupied  no  inconsiderable  share 
of  attention  in  France,  and  her  history,  under  the  title  of 


154  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"Memoires  cl'une  Contemporaine,"  excited  a  degree  of 
interest  and  anxiety  in  quarters  which  one  might  have 
fancied  far  above  the  reach  of  her  revelations.  At  the  time 
I  speak  of,  I  little  knew  the  character  of  the  age  in  which 
such  influences  were  all  powerful,  nor  how  destinies  very 
different  from  mine  hung  upon  the  favoritism  of  "La  belle 
Nathalie."  Had  I  known  these  things,  and,  still  more,  had 
I  known  the  sad  fate  to  which  she  brought  my  poor  friend 
Colonel  Mahon,  I  might  have  scrupled  to  accept  my  life  at 
such  hands,  or  involved  myself  in  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  one 
for  whom  I  was  subsequently  to  feel  nothing  but  hatred  and 
aversion.  It  was  indeed  a  terrible  period,  and  in  nothing 
more  so  than  the  fact  that  acts  of  benevolence  and  charity 
were  blended  with  features  of  falsehood,  treachery,  and 
baseness,  which  made  one  despair  of  humanity,  and  think 
the  very  worst  of  their  species. 


CHAPTER  Xy. 

SCRAPS    OF    HISTORY. 

Nothing  displays  more  powerfully  the  force  of  egotism  than 
the  simple  truth  that  when  any  man  sits  himself  down  to 
write  the  events  of  his  life,  the  really  momentous  occurrences 
in  which  he  may  have  borne  a  part  occupy  a  conspicuously 
small  place,  when  each  petty  incident  of  a  merely  personal 
natui'e  is  dilated  and  extended  beyond  all  bounds.  In  one 
sense  the  reader  benefits  by  this,  since  there  are  few  imper- 
tinences less  for^vable  than  the  obtrusion  of  some  insisf- 
nificant  name  into  the  narrative  of  facts  that  are  meet  for 
history.  I  have  made  these  remarks  in  a  spmt  of  apology 
to  my  reader,  —  not  alone  for  the  accui-acy  of  my  late  detail, 
but  also  if  I  should  seem  in  future  to  dwell  but  passingly  on 
the  truly  important  facts  of  a  great  campaign,  in  which  my 
own  part  was  so  humble. 

I  was  a  soldier  in  that  glorious  army  which  Moreau  led 
into  the  heart  of  Germany,  and  whose  victorious  career 
would  only  have  ceased  when  they  entered  the  capital  of  the 
Empire,  had  it  not  been  for  the  unhappy  mistakes  of  Jour- 
dan,  who  commanded  the  auxiliary  forces  in  the  north.  For 
nigh  three  months  we  advanced  steadily  and  successfully, 
superior  in  every  engagement;  we  only  waited  for  the 
moment  of  junction  with  Jourdan's  army,  to  declare  the 
Empire  our  own;  when  at  last  came  the  terrible  tidings  that 
he  had  been  beaten,  and  that  Latour  was  advancing  from 
Ulm  to  turn  our  left  flank,  and  cut  off  our  communications 
with  France. 

Two  hundred  miles  from  our  own  frontiers ;  separated 
from  the  Rhine  by  that  terrible  Black  Forest  whose  defiles 
are  mere  gorges  between  vast  mountains  ;  with  an  army  fifty 
thousand   strong   on  one  flank,  and   the  Archduke  Charles 


156  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

commanding  a  force  of  nigh  thirty  thousand  on  the  other,  ^— 
such  were  the  dreadful  combinations  which  now  threatened 
us  with  a  defeat  not  less  signal  than  Jourdan's  own.  Our 
strength,  however,  lay  in  a  superb  army  of  seventy  thousand 
unbeaten  men,  led  on  by  one  whose  name  alone  was  victory. 

On  the  24th  of  September  the  order  for  retreat  was  given ; 
the  army  began  to  retire  by  slow  marches,  prepared  to  con- 
test every  inch  of  ground,  and  make  ever}^  available  spot  a 
battle-field.  The  baggage  and  ammunition  were  sent  on  in 
front,  and  two  days'  march  in  advance.  Behind,  a  formid- 
able rear-guard  was  ready  to  repulse  every  attack  of  the 
enemy.  Before,  however,  entering  those  close  defiles  by 
which  his  retreat  lay,  Moreau  determined  to  give  one  terrible 
lesson  to  his  enemy.  Like  the  hunted  tiger  turning  upon  his 
pursuers,  he  suddenly  halted  at  Biberach,  and  ere  Latour, 
who  commanded  the  Austrians,  was  aware  of  his  purpose, 
assailed  the  Imperial  forces  with  an  attack  on  right,  centre, 
and  left  together.  Four  thousand  prisoners  and  eighteen 
pieces  of  cannon  were  the  trophies  of  the  victory. 

The  day  after  this  decisive  battle  our  march  was  resumed, 
and  the  advanced-guard  entered  that  narrow  and  dismal 
defile  which  goes  by  the  name  of  the  "  Valley  of  Hell,"  when 
our  left  and  right  flanks,  stationed  at  the  entrance  of  the 
pass,  effectually  secured  the  retreat  against  molestation. 
The  voltigeurs  of  St.  Cyr,  crowning  the  heights  as  we  went, 
swept  away  the  light  troops  which  were  scattered  along  the 
rocky  eminences,  and  in  less  than  a  fortnight  our  army 
debouched  by  Fribourg  and  Oppenheim  into  the  valley  of  the 
Rhine,  not  a  gun  having  been  lost,  not  a  caisson  deserted, 
during  that  perilous  movement. 

The  Archduke,  however,  having  ascertained  the  direction 
of  Moreau's  retreat,  advanced  by  a  parallel  pass  through  the 
Kinzigthal,  and  attacked  St.  Cyr  at  Nauendorf ,  and  defeated 
him.  Our  right  flank,  severely  handled  at  Emmendingen, 
the  whole  force  was  obliged  to  retreat  on  Huningen ;  and 
once  more  we  found  ourselves  upon  the  banks  of  the  Rhine, 
no  longer  an  advancing  army,  high  in  hope,  and  flushed  with 
victory,  but  beaten,  harassed,  and  retreating ! 

The  last  few  days  of  that  retreat  presented  a  scene  of 
disaster  such  as  I  can  never  forget.     To  avoid  the  furious 


SCRAPS  OF   HISTORY.  157 

charges  of  the  Austrian  cavahy,  against  which  our  own  could 
no  longer  make  resistance,  we  had  fallen  back  upon  a  line  of 
country  cut  up  into  rocky  cliffs  and  precipices,  and  covered 
by  a  dense  pine  forest.  Here,  necessarily  broken  up  into 
small  parties,  we  were  assailed  by  the  light  troops  of  the 
enemy,  led  on  through  the  various  passes  by  the  peasantry, 
whose  animosity  our  own  severity  had  excited.  It  was  there- 
fore a  continual  hand-to-hand  struggle,  in  which,  opposed  as 
we  were  to  over  numbers  well  acquainted  with  every  advan- 
tage of  the  ground,  our  loss  was  terrific.  It  is  said  that  nigh 
seven  thousand  men  fell,  —  an  immense  number,  when  no 
general  action  had  occurred.  Whatever  the  actual  loss,  such 
were  the  circumstances  of  our  army  that  Moreau  hastened  to 
propose  an  armistice,  on  the  condition  of  the  Rhine  being 
the  boundary  between  the  two  armies,  while  Kehl  was  still  to 
be  held  by  the  French. 

The  proposal  was  rejected  by  the  Austrians,  who  at  once 
commenced  preparations  for  a  siege  of  the  fortress  with 
forty  thousand  troops  under  Latour's  command.  The  earlier 
months  of  winter  now^  passed  in  the  labors  of  the  siege,  and 
on  the  morning  of  New  Year's  Day  the  first  attack  was 
made ;  the  second  line  was  carried  a  few  days  after,  and, 
after  a  glorious  defence  by  Desaix,  the  garrison  capitulated, 
and  evacuated  the  fortress  on  the  9th  of  the  month.  Thus, 
in  the  space  of  six  short  months  had  we  advanced  with  a 
conquering  army  into  the  very  heart  of  the  Empke,  and  now 
we  were  back  again  within  our  own  frontier,  —  not  one  single 
trophy  of  all  our  victories  remaining,  two  thirds  of  our 
army  dead  or  wounded ;  more  than  all,  the  prestige  of  our 
superiority  fatally  injured,  and  that  of  the  enemy's  valor  and 
prowess  as  signally  elevated. 

The  short  annals  of  a  successful  soldier  are  often  com- 
prised in  the  few  words  which  state  how  he  was  made  lieu- 
tenant at  such  a  date,  promoted  to  his  company  here, 
obtained  his  majority  there,  succeeded  to  the  command  of 
his  regiment  at  such  a  place,  and  so  on.  Now,  my  exploits 
may  even  be  more  briefly  written  as  regards  this  campaign ; 
for  whether  at  Kehl,  at  Nauendorf,  on  the  Etz,  or  at  Hunin- 
gen,  I  ended  as  I  began,  —  a  simple  soldier  of  the  ranks.  A 
few  slight  wounds,  a  few  still  more  insignificant  words  of 


158  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

praise,  were  all  that  I  brought  back  with  me.  But  if  my 
trophies  were  small,  I  had  gained  considerably  both  in  habits 
of  discipline  and  obedience.  I  had  learned  to  endure,  ably 
and  without  complaining,  the  inevitable  hardships  of  a  cam- 
paign, and,  better  still,  to  see  that  the  irrepressible  impulses 
of  the  soldier,  however  prompted  by  zeal  or  heroism,  may 
oftener  mar  than  promote  the  more  mature  plans  of  his 
general.  Scarcely  had  my  feet  once  more  touched  French 
ground  than  I  was  seized  with  the  ague,  then  raging  as  an 
epidemic  among  the  troops,  and  sent  forward  with  a  large 
detachment  of  sick  to  the  Military  Hospital  of  Strasbourg. 

Here  I  bethought  me  of  my  patron.  Colonel  Mahon,  and 
determined  to  write  to  him.  For  this  purpose  I  addressed  a 
question  to  the  Adjutant-General's  office  to  ascertain  the 
colonel's  address.  The  reply  was  a  brief  and  stunning  one, 
—  he  had  been  dismissed  the  service.  No  personal  calamity 
could  have  thrown  me  into  deeper  affliction  ;  nor  had  I  even 
the  sad  consolation  of  learning  any  of  the  circumstances  of 
this  misfortune.  His  death,  even  though  thereby  I  should 
have  lost  my  only  friend,  would  have  been  a  lighter  evil  than 
this  disgrace,  and  coming  as  did  the  tidings  when  I  was 
already  broken  by  sickness  and  defeat,  more  than  ever  dis- 
gusted me  with  a  soldier's  life.  It  was  then  with  a  feeling  of 
total  indifference  that  I  heard  a  rumor  which  at  another 
moment  would  have  filled  me  with  enthusiasm,  —  the  order 
for  all  invalids  sufficiently  well  to  be  removed,  to  be  drafted 
into  regiments  sendng  in  Italy.  The  fame  of  Bonaparte, 
who  commanded  that  army,  had  now  sm'passed  that  of  all 
the  other  generals ;  his  victories  paled  the  glory  of  their 
successes,  and  it  was  already  a  mark  of  distinction  to  have 
served  under  his  command. 

The  walls  of  the  hospital  were  scrawled  over  with  the 
names  of  his  victories ;  rude  sketches  of  Alpine  passes, 
terrible  ravines,  or  snow-clad  peaks,  met  the  eye  everywhere  ; 
and  the  one  magical  name  "Bonaparte,"  written  beneath, 
seemed  the  key  to  all  their  meaning.  With  him  war  seemed 
to  assume  all  the  charms  of  romance.  Each  action  was 
illustrated  by  feats  of  valor  or  heroism,  and  a  halo  of  glory 
seemed  to  shine  over  all  the  achievements  of  his  genius. 

It  was  a  clear,  bright  morning  of   March,  when  a  light 


SCRAPS  OF  HISTORY.  159 

frost  sharpened  the  air,  and  a  fair,  blue  sky  overhead  showed 
a  cloudless  elastic  atmosphere,  that  the  "  invalides,"  as  we 
were  all  called,  were  drawn  up  in  the  great  square  of  the 
hospital  for  inspection.  Two  superior  officers  of  the  staff, 
attended  by  several  surgeons  and  an  adjutant,  sat  at  a  table 
in  front  of  us,  on  which  lay  the  regimental  books  and  con- 
duct-rolls of  the  different  corps.  Such  of  the  sick  as  had 
received  severe  wounds,  incapacitating  them  for  further  ser- 
vice, were  presented  with  some  slight  reward,  —  a  few  francs 
in  money,  a  greatcoat,  or  a  pair  of  shoes,  and  obtained  their 
freedom.  Others,  whose  injuries  were  less  important,  re- 
ceived their  promotion,  or  some  slight  increase  of  pay,  — 
these  favors  being  all  measm*ed  by  the  character  the  indi- 
vidual bore  in  his  regiment,  and  the  opinion  certified  of  him 
by  his  commanding  officer.  When  my  turn  came  and  I  stood 
forward,  I  felt  a  kind  of  shame  to  think  how  little  claim  I 
could  prefer  either  to  honor  or  advancement. 

"Maurice  Tiernay,  slightly  wounded  by  a  sabre  at  Nauen- 
dorf ;  flesh-wound  at  Biberach  ;  enterprising  and  active,  but 
presumptuous  and  overbearing  with  his  comrades,"  read  out 
the  adjutant,  while  he  added  a  few  words  I  could  not  hear, 
but  at  which  the  superior  laughed  heartily. 

"  What  says  the  doctor?  "  asked  he,  after  a  pause. 

"This  has  been  a  bad  case  of  ague,  and  I  doubt  if  the 
young  fellow  will  ever  be  fit  for  active  ser\ace,  —  certainly 
not  at  present." 

"  Is  there  a  vacancy  at  Saumur?  "  asked  the  general.  "  I 
see  he  has  been  employed  in  the  school  at  Nancy." 

"  Yes,  sir;  for  the  third  class  there  is  one." 

"Let  him  have  it,  then.  Tiernay,  you  are  appointed  as 
aspu-ant  of  the  third  class  at  the  College  of  Saumur.  Take 
care  that  the  report  of  your  conduct  be  more  creditable  than 
what  is  written  here.  Your  opportunities  will  now  be  con- 
siderable, and  if  well  employed,  may  lead  to  further  honor 
and  distinction;  if  neglected  or  abused,  your  chances  are 
forfeited  forever." 

I  bowed  and  retired,  as  little  satisfied  with  the  admonition 
as  elated  with  a  prospect  which  converted  me  from  a  soldier 
into  a  scholar,  and  in  the  first  verge  of  manhood  thi-ew  me 
back  once  more  into  the  condition  of  a  mere  boy. 


160  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

Eighteen  months  of  my  life  —  not  the  least  happy,  per- 
haps, since  in  the  peaceful  portion  I  can  trace  so  little  to  be 
sorry  for  —  glided  over  beside  the  banks  of  the  beautiful 
Loire,  the  intervals  in  the  hours  of  study  being  spent  either 
in  the  riding-school  or  the  river,  where,  in  addition  to 
swimming  and  diving,  we  were  instructed  in  pontooning  and 
rafting,  the  modes  of  transporting  ammunition  and  artillery, 
and  the  attacks  of  infantry  by  cavalry  pickets. 

I  also  learned  to  speak  and  write  English  and  German 
with  great  ease  and  fluency,  besides  acquiring  some  skill  in 
military  drawing  and  engineering. 

It  is  true  that  the  imprisonment  chafed  sorely  against  us, 
as  we  read  of  the  great  achievements  of  our  armies  in  various 
parts  of  the  world ;  of  the  great  battles  of  Cairo  and  the 
Pyramids,  of  Acre  and  Mount  Thabor,  —  and  of  which  a 
holiday  and  a  fete  were  to  be  our  only  share. 

The  terrible  storms  which  shook  Europe  from  end  to  end 
only  reached  us  in  the  bulletins  of  new  victories ;  and  we 
panted  for  the  time  when  we  too  should  be  actors  in  the 
glorious  exploits  of  France. 

It  is  already  known  to  the  reader  that  of  the  country  from 
which  my  family  came  I  myself  knew  nothing.  The  very 
little  I  had  ever  learned  of  it  from  my  father  was  also  a 
mere  tradition ;  still  was  I  known  among  my  comrades  only 
as  "  the  Irishman,"  and  by  that  name  was  I  recognized  even 
in  the  record  of  the  school,  where  I  was  inscribed  thus : 
"Maurice  Tiernay,  dit  ITrlandais."  It  was  on  this  very 
simple  and  seemingly  unimportant  fact  that  my  whole  fate 
in  life  was  to  turn  ;  and  in  this  wise  —  But  the  explanation 
deserves  a  chapter  of  its  own,  and  shall  have  it. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"an    old    general    of    the    IRISH    BRIGADE." 

In  obedience  to  an  order  which  arrived  at  Saumur  one  morn- 
ing in  the  July  of  1798,  I  was  summoned  before  the  com- 
mandant of  the  school,  when  the  following  brief  colloquy 
ensued :  — 

"Maurice  Tiernay,"  said  he,  reading  from  the  record  of 
the  school,  "  why  are  you  called  I'lrlandais?  " 

"  I  am  Ii'ish  by  descent,  sir." 

"Ha!  by  descent.     Your  father  was,  then,  an  Emigre?" 

"  Xo,  sir,  — my  great-grandfather." 

^^Parhleu!  that  is  going  very  far  back.  Are  you  aware 
of  the  causes  which  induced  him  to  leave  his  native 
country  ?  " 

"  They  were  connected  with  political  troubles,  I  've  heard, 
sir.  He  took  part  against  the  English,  my  father  told  me, 
and  was  obliged  to  make  his  escape  to  save  his  life." 

"You,  then,  hate  the  English,  Maurice?" 

"  My  grandfather  certainly  did  not  love  them,  sii\" 

' '  Nor  can  you,  boy,  ever  forgive  their  having  exiled  your 
family  from  country  and  home ;  every  man  of  honor  retains 
the  memory  of  such  injuries." 

"  I  can  scarcely  deem  that  an  injury,  sir,  which  has  made 
me  a  French  citizen,"  said  I,  proudly. 

"True,  boy, — you  say  what  is  perfectly  true  and  just; 
any  sacrifice  of  fortune  or  patrimony  is  cheap  at  such  a 
price.  Still,  you  have  suffered  a  wrong,  —  a  deep  and  irre- 
parable wrong,  —  and  as  a  Frenchman  you  are  ready  to 
avenge  it." 

Although  I  had  no  very  precise  notion  either  as  to  the 
extent  of  the  hardships  done  me,  nor  in  what  way  I  was 
to  demand  the  reparation,  I  gave  the  assent  he  seemed  to 
expect. 

11 


162  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"  You  are  well  acquainted  with  the  language,  I  believe?  " 
continued  he. 

"  I  can  read  and  speak  English  tolerably  well,  sir." 

' '  But  I  speak  of  Irish,  boy,  —  of  the  language  which  is 
spoken  by  your  fellow-countrymen,"  said  he,  rebukingly. 

"  I  have  always  heard,  su",  that  this  has  fallen  into  disuse, 
and  is  little  known  save  among  the  peasantry  in  a  few 
secluded  districts." 

He  seemed  impatient  as  I  said  this,  and  referred  once 
more  to  the  paper  before  him,  from  whose  minutes  he 
appeared  to  have  been  speaking. 

"You  must  be  in  error,  boy.  I  find  here  that  the  nation 
is  devotedly  attached  to  its  traditions  and  its  literature,  and 
feels  no  injury  deeper  than  the  insulting  substitution  of  a 
foreign  tongue  for  their  own  noble  language." 

' '  Of  myself  I  know  nothing,  sir ;  the  little  I  have  learned 
was  acquired  when  a  mere  child." 

"  Ah,  then  you  probably  forget,  or  may  never  have  heard 
the  fact ;  but  it  is  as  I  tell  you.  This,  which  I  hold  here,  is 
the  report  of  a  highly-distinguished  and  most  influential 
personage,  who  lays  great  stress  upon  the  circumstance.  I 
am  sorry,  Tiernay,  very  sorry,  that  you  are  unacquainted 
with  the  language." 

He  continued  for  some  minutes  to  brood  over  this  disap- 
pointment, and  at  last  returned  to  the  paper  before  him. 

"  The  geography  of  the  country,  — what  knowledge  have 
you  on  that  subject  ?  " 

"No  more,  sir,  than  I  may  possess  of  other  countries, 
and  merely  learned  from  maps." 

"Bad  again,"  muttered  he  to  himself.  "  Madgett  calls 
these  '  essentials  ; '  but  we  shall  see."  Then  addressing  me, 
he  said  :  "  Tiernay,  the  object  of  my  present  interrogatory  is 
to  inform  you  that  the  Director}^  is  about  to  send  an  expedi- 
tion to  Ireland  to  assist  in  the  liberation  of  that  enslaved 
people.  It  has  been  suggested  that  young  officers  and 
soldiers  of  Irish  descent  might  render  peculiar  service  to  the 
cause,  and  I  have  selected  you  for  an  opportunity  which  will 
convert  those  worsted  epaulettes  into  bullion." 

This  at  least  was  intelligible  news,  and  now  I  began  to 
listen  with  more  attention. 


"AN  OLD  GENEEAL  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE."      163 

"There  is  a  report,"  said  he,  laying  down  before  me  a 
very  capacious  manuscript,  "  which  you  will  carefully  peruse. 
Here  are  the  latest  pamphlets  setting  forth  the  state  of  public 
opinion  in  Ireland ;  and  here  are  various  maps  of  the  coast, 
the  harbors,  and  the  strongholds  of  that  country,  with  all 
of  which  you  may  employ  yourself  advantageously ;  and  if, 
on  considering  the  subject,  you  feel  disposed  to  volunteer,  — 
for  as  a  volunteer  only  could  your  sei-vices  be  accepted,  — 
I  will  willingly  support  your  request  by  all  the  influence  in 
my  power." 

"  I  am  ready  to  do  so  at  once,  sir,"  said  I,  eagerly;  "  I 
have  no  need  to  know  any  more  than  you  have  told  me." 

"  Well  said,  boy  !  I  like  your  ardor.  Write  your  petition 
and  it  shall  be  foi-warded  to-day.  I  will  also  try  and  obtain 
for  you  the  same  regimental  rank  you  hold  in  the  school,"  — 
I  was  a  sergeant ;  "it  will  depend  upon  yourself  afterwards 
to  secure  a  further  advancement.  You  are  now  free  from 
duty;  lose  no  time,  therefore,  in  storing  your  mind  with 
every  possible  information,  and  be  ready  to  set  out  at  a 
moment's  notice." 

"Is  the  expedition  so  nearly  ready,  sir?"  asked  I, 
eagerly. 

He  nodded,  and  with  a  significant  admonition  as  to  secrecy, 
dismissed  me,  bursting  with  anxiety  to  examine  the  stores  of 
knowledge  before  me,  and  prepare  myself  with  all  the  details 
of  a  plan  in  which  already  I  took  the  liveliest  interest. 
Before  the  week  expired,  I  received  an  answer  from  the 
minister,  accepting  the  offer  of  my  services.  The  reply 
found  me  deep  in  those  studies,  which  I  scarcel}^  could  bear 
to  quit  even  at  meal  times.  Never  did  I  experience  such 
an  all-devouring  passion  for  a  theme  as  on  that  occasion. 
' '  Ireland  "  never  left  my  thoughts  ;  her  wrongs  and  suffer- 
ings were  everlastingly  before  me ;  all  the  cruelties  of  cen- 
turies, all  the  hard  tyranny  of  the  penal  laws,  the  dire 
injustice  of  caste  oppression,  filled  me  with  indignation  and 
anger;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  I  conceived  the  highest 
admiration  of  a  people  who,  undeterred  by  the  might  and 
power  of  England,  resolved  to  strike  a  great  blow  for 
liberty. 

The  enthusiasm  of   the  people,  the  ardent  darings  of  a 


164  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

valor  whose  impetuosity  was  its  greatest  difficulty,  their 
high  romantic  temperament,  then-  devotion,  their  gratitude, 
the  childlike  trustfulness  of  their  natures,  were  all  traits 
scattered  through  the  various  narratives  which  invariably 
attracted  me,  and  drew  me  more  strongly  to  their  cause,  — 
more  from  affection  than  reason. 

Madgett's  memoir  was  filled  with  these,  and  he,  I  con- 
cluded, must  know  them  well,  being,  as  it  was  asserted,  one 
of  the  ancient  nobility  of  the  land,  and  who  now  desu-ed 
nothing  better  than  to  throw  rank,  privilege,  and  title  into 
the  scale,  and  do  battle  for  the  liberty  and  equality  of  his 
countrymen.  How  I  longed  to  see  this  great  man,  whom 
my  fancy  arrayed  in  all  the  attributes  he  so  lavished  upon 
his  countrymen,  —  for  they  were  not  only,  in  his  description, 
the  boldest  and  the  bravest,  but  the  handsomest  people  of 
Europe. 

As  to  the  success  of  the  enterprise,  whatever  doubts  I 
had  at  first  conceived,  from  an  estimate  of  the  immense 
resources  of  England,  were  speedil}'  solved  as  I  read  of  the 
enormous  preparations  the  Ii'ish  had  made  for  the  struggle. 
The  Roman  Catholics,  Madgett  said,  were  three  millions,  the 
Dissenters  another  million,  —  all  eager  for  freedom  and 
French  alliance,  wanting  nothing  but  the  appearance  of  a 
small  armed  force  to  give  them  the  necessary  organization 
and  discipline.  They  were  somewhat  deficient,  he  acknow- 
ledged, in  firearms,  —  cannon  they  had  none  whatever ;  but 
the  character  of  the  country,  which  consisted  of  mountains, 
valleys,  ravines,  and  gorges,  reduced  war  to  the  mere  chival- 
rous features  of  personal  encounter.  "What  interminable 
descriptions  did  I  wade  through  of  clubs  and  associations, 
the  very  names  of  which  were  a  puzzle  to  me,  —  the  great 
union  of  all  appearing  to  be  a  society  called  "Defenders," 
whose  oath  bound  them  to  "fidelity  to  the  united  nations  of 
France  and  Ireland  !  " 

So  much  for  the  one  side.  For  the  other,  it  was  asserted 
that  the  English  forces  then  in  garrison  in  Ireland  were 
below  contempt;  the  militia,  being  principally  Irish,  might 
be  relied  on  for  taking  the  popular  side ;  and  as  to  the 
Regulars,  they  were  either  "old  men  or  boys,"  incapable 
of  active  service,  and  several  of  the  regiments  being  Scotch, 


"AN  OLD  GENERAL  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE."      165 

greatly  disaffected  to  the  Government.  Then,  again,  as  to 
the  navy,  —  the  sailors  in  the  English  fleet  were  more  than 
two-thii'ds  Irishmen,  all  Catholics,  and  all  disaffected. 

That  the  enterprise  contained  every  element  of  success, 
then,  who  could  doubt?  The  nation,  in  the  proportion  of 
ten  to  one,  were  for  the  movement.  On  their  side  lay  not 
alone  the  wrongs  to  avenge,  but  the  courage,  the  energy, 
and  the  daring.  Their  oppressors  were  as  weak  as  tyranni- 
cal, theii*  cause  was  a  bad  one,  and  theii-  support  of  it  a 
hollow  semblance  of  superiority. 

If  I  read  these  statements  with  ardor  and  avidit}',  one 
lurking  sense  of  doubt  alone  obtruded  itself  on  my  reason- 
ings. Why,  with  all  these  guarantees  of  victory,  with  every- 
thing that  can  hallow  a  cause,  and  give  it  stability  and 
strength,  — why  did  the  Irish  ask  for  aid?  If  they  were,  as 
they  alleged,  an  immense  majority ;  if  theu's  was  all  the 
heroism  and  the  daring ;  if  the  struggle  was  to  be  maintained 
against  a  miserably  inferior  force,  weakened  by  age,. incapa- 
city, and  disaffection,  —  what  need  had  they  of  Frenchmen 
on  their  side  ?  The  answer  to  all  such  doubts,  however,  was 
"  the  Irish  were  deficient  in  organization." 

Not  only  was  the  explanation  a  very  sufficient  one,  but  it 
served  in  a  high  degree  to  flatter  our  vanity.  We  were,  then, 
to  be  organizers  of  Ireland ;  from  us  were  they  to  take  the 
lessons  of  ci\'ilization,  which  should  prepare  them  for  free- 
dom ;  ours  was  the  task  to  discipline  their  valor,  and  train 
then-  untaught  intelligence.  Once  landed  in  the  country,  it 
was  to  our  standard  they  were  to  rally ;  from  us  were  to  go 
forth  the  orders  of  every  movement  and  measure ;  to  us 
this  new  land  was  to  be  an  Eldorado.  Madgett  significantly 
hinted  everywhere  at  the  unbounded  gratitude  of  Irishmen, 
and  more  than  hinted  at  the  future  fate  of  certain  confiscated 
estates.  One  phrase,  ostentatiously  set  forth  in  capitals, 
asserted  that  the  best  general  of  the  French  Republic  could 
not  be  anywhere  employed  with  so  much  reputation  and 
profit.  There  was,  then,  everything  to  stimulate  the  soldier 
in  such  an  enterprise ;  honor,  fame,  glory,  and  rich  rewards 
were  all  among  the  prizes. 

It  was  when  deep  in  the  midst  of  these  studies,  poring 
over  maps  and  reports,  taxing  my  memory  with  hard  names, 


166  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

aud  getting  off  by  heart  dates,  distances,  and  numbers,  that 
the  order  came  for  me  to  repair  at  once  to  Paris,  where  the 
volunteers  of  the  expedition  were  to  assemble.  My  rank  of 
sergeant  had  been  confirmed,  and  in  this  capacity,  as  sous- 
officier,  I  was  ordered  to  report  myself  to  General  Kilmaine, 
the  adjutant-general  of  the  expedition,  then  living  in  the 
Rue  Chantereine.  I  was  also  given  the  address  of  a  certain 
Lestaing  (Rue  Tarbout)  a  tailor,  from  whom,  on  producing 
a  certificate,  I  was  to  obtain  my  new  uniform. 

Full  as  I  was  of  the  whole  theme,  thinking  of  the  expedi- 
tion by  day  aud  dreaming  of  it  by  night,  I  was  still  little 
prepared  for  the  enthusiasm  it  was  at  that  very  moment  ex- 
citing in  every  society  of  the  capital.  For  some  time  previous 
a  great  number  of  Irish  emigrants  had  made  Paris  theu- 
residence ;  some  were  men  of  good  position  and  ample  for- 
tune ;  some  were  individuals  of  considerable  ability  and 
intelligence ;  all  were  enthusiastic  and  ardent  in  tempera- 
ment, devotedly  attached  to  then-  country,  hearty  haters  of 
England,  and  proportionally  attached  to  all  that  was  French. 
These  sentiments,  coupled  with  a  certain  ease  of  manner, 
and  a  faculty  of  adaptation  so  peculiarly  Irish,  made  them 
general  favorites  in  society ;  and  long  before  the  Irish 
question  had  found  any  favor  with  the  public,  its  national 
supporters  had  won  over  the  hearts  and  good  wishes  of  all 
Paris  to  the  cause. 

Well  pleased,  theu,  as  I  was  with  mj^  handsome  uniform 
of  green  aud  gold,  my  small  chapeau,  with  its  plume  of  cock's 
feathers,  aud  the  embroidered  shamrock  on  my  collar,  I  was 
not  a  little  struck  by  the  excitement  my  first  appearance  in 
the  street  created.  Accustomed  to  see  a  hundred  strange 
military  costumes,  —  the  greater  number,  I  own,  more  singu- 
lar than  tasteful,  —  the  Parisians,  I  concluded,  would  scarcely 
notice  mine  in  the  crowd.  Not  so,  however ;  the  print-shops 
had  already  given  the  impulse  to  the  admu-ation,  and  the 
"Irish  Volunteer  of  the  Guard"  was  to  be  seen  in  every 
window,  in  all  the  "  glory  of  his  bravery."  The  heroic 
character  of  the  expedition,  too,  was  typified  by  a  great 
variety  of  scenes,  in  which  the  artist's  imagination  had  all 
the  credit.  In  one  picture  the  "  jeune  Irlandais  "  was  plant- 
ing a  national  flag  of  very  capacious  dimensions  on  the  sum- 


"AN  OLD  GENERAL  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE."      167 

mit  of  his  native  mountaius ;  here  he  was  storming  ' '  Le 
Chateau  de  Dublin,"  a  most  formidable  fortress,  perched  on 
a  rock  above  the  sea ;  here  he  was  crowning  the  heights  of 
"La  Citadelle  de  Cork,"  a  very  Gibraltar  in  strength;  or 
he  was  haranguing  the  native  chieftains,  a  highly  picturesque 
group,  —  a  cross  between  a  knight  crusader  and  a  South-sea 
islander. 

My  appearance,  therefore,  in  the  streets  was  the  signal  for 
general  notice  and  admiration,  and  more  than  one  compli- 
ment was  uttered,  purposely  loud  enough  to  reach  me,  on 
the  elegance  and  style  of  my  equipment.  In  the  pleasant 
flurry  of  spirits  excited  by  this  flattery,  I  arrived  at  the 
general's  quarters  in  the  Rue  Chantereine.  It  was  consider- 
ably before  the  time  of  his  usual  receptions,  but  the  glitter 
of  my  epaulettes  and  the  air  of  assurance  I  had  assumed  so 
far  imposed  upon  the  old  servant  who  acted  as  valet  that  he 
at  once  introduced  me  into  a  small  saloon,  and  after  a  brief 
pause  presented  me  to  the  general,  who  was  reclining  on  a 
sofa  at  his  breakfast.  Although  far  advanced  in  years,  and 
evidently  broken  by  bad  health,  General  Kilmaine  stiU  pre- 
served traces  of  great  personal  advantages,  while  his  manner 
exhibited  all  that  polished  ease  and  courtesy  which  was  said 
to  be  peculiar  to  the  Irish  gentleman  of  the  French  court. 
Addressing  me  in  English,  he  invited  me  to  join  his  meal ; 
and  on  my  declining,  as  having  already  breakfasted,  he  said, 
' '  I  perceive  from  your  name  we  are  countrymen,  and  as  your 
uniform  tells  me  the  service  in  which  you  are  engaged,  we 
may  speak  with  entire  confidence.  Tell  me  then,  frankly, 
all  that  you  know  of  the  actual  condition  of  Ireland." 

Conceiving  that  this  question  applied  to  the  result  of  my 
late  studies,  and  was  meant  to  elicit  the  amount  of  my  in- 
formation, I  at  once  began  a  recital  of  what  I  had  learned 
from  the  books  and  reports  I  had  been  reading.  My  statis- 
tics were  perfect,  —  they  had  been  gotten  off  by  heart ;  my 
sympathies  were,  for  the  same  reason,  most  eloquent ;  my 
indignation  was  boundless  on  the  wrongs  I  deplored,  and  in 
fact  in  the  fifteen  minutes  during  which  he  permitted  me  to 
declaim  without  interruption  I  had  gone  through  the  whole 
''  cause  of  Ireland,"  from  Henry  II.  to  George  III. 

"You  have  been  reading  Mr.  Madgett,  I  perceive,"  said 


168  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

he,  with  a  smile;  "but  I  would  rather  hear  something  of 
your  own  actual  experience.  Tell  me,  therefore,  in  what 
condition  are  the  people  at  this  moment,  as  regards 
poverty  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  been  in  Ireland,  general,"  said  I,  not  with- 
out some  shame  at  the  avowal  coming  so  soon  after  my 
eloquent  exhortation. 

"Ah,  I  perceive,"  said  he,  blandly,  "  of  Irish  origin,  and 
a  relative  probably  of  that  very  distinguished  soldier.  Count 
Maurice  de  Tiernay,  who  served  in  the  Garde-du-Corps." 

"His  only  son,  general,"  said  I,  blushing  with  eagerness 
and  pleasure  at  the  praise  of  my  father. 

"Indeed!"  said  he,  smiling  courteously,  and  seeming  to 
meditate  on  my  words.  "  There  was  not  a  better  nor  a  braver 
sabre  in  the  corps  than  your  father ;  a  very  few  more  of  such 
men  might  have  saved  the  monarchy ;  as  it  was,  they  digni- 
fied its  fall.  And  to  whose  guidance  and  care  did  you  owe 
your  early  training,  for  I  see  you  have  not  been  neglected  ?  " 

A  few  words  told  him  the  principal  events  of  m}^  early 
years,  to  which  he  listened  with  deep  attention.  At  length 
he  said,  "And  now  you  are  about  to  devote  youi*  acquu-e- 
ments  and  energy  to  this  new  expedition  ?  " 

"All,  general!  Everything  that  I  have  is  too  little  for 
such  a  cause." 

"You  say  truly,  boy,"  said  he,  warmly;  "would  that  so 
good  a  cause  had  better  leaders  !  I  mean,"  added  he,  hurriedly, 
' '  wiser  ones,  —  men  more  conversant  with  the  actual  state  of 
events,  more  fit  to  cope  with  the  great  difficulties  before 
them,  more  ready  to  take  advantage  of  circumstances  whose 
outward  meaning  will  often  prove  deceptive ;  in  fact.  Irish- 
men of  character  and  capacity,  tried  soldiers  and  good 
patriots.  Well,  well,  let  us  hope  the  best.  In  whose  division 
are  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  yet  heard,  sir.  I  have  presented  myself  here 
to-day  to  receive  your  orders." 

"There  again  is  another  instance  of  their  incapacity," 
cried  he,  passionately.  "Why,  boy,  I  have  no  command, 
nor  any  function.  I  did  accept  office  under  General  Hoche, 
but  he  is  not  to  lead  the  present  expedition." 

"And  who  is,  sir?" 


"AN  OLD  GENERAL  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE."      169 

"  I  cauuot  tell  you.  A  week  ago  they  talked  of  Grouchy, 
then  of  Hardy ;  yesterday  it  was  Humbert ;  to-day  it  may 
be  Bouaparte,  and  to-morrow  yourself!  Ay,  Tiernay,  this 
great  and  good  cause  has  its  national  fatality  attached  to  it, 
and  is  so  wrapped  up  in  low  intrigue  and  falsehood  that  every 
minister  becomes  in  turn  disgusted  with  the  treachery  and 
mendacity  he  meets  with,  and  bequeaths  the  question  to 
some  official  underling,  meet  partisan  for  the  mock  patriot 
he  treats  with." 

"But  the  expedition  will  sail,  general?"  asked  I,  sadly 
discomfited  by  this  tone  of  despondency. 

He  made  me  no  answer,  but  sat  for  some  time  absorbed 
in  his  own  thoughts.  At  last  he  looked  up,  and  said,  "  You 
ought  to  be  in  the  army  of  Italy,  boy ;  the  great  teacher  of 
war  is  there." 

"  I  know  it,  sir,  but  my  whole  heart  is  in  this  struggle.  I 
feel  that  Ireland  has  a  claim  on  all  who  derived  even  a  name 
from  her  soil.  Do  you  not  believe  that  the  expedition  will 
sail?  " 

Again  he  was  silent  and  thoughtful. 

'•  Mr.  Madgett  would  say  yes,"  said  he  scornfully,  "  though, 
certes,  he  would  not  volunteer  to  bear  it  company." 

"Colonel  Cherin,  general!"  said  the  valet,  as  he  flung 
open  the  door  for  a  young  officer  in  a  staff  uniform.  I  arose 
at  once  to  withdraw,  but  the  general  motioned  to  me  to  wait 
in  an  adjoining  room,  as  he  desired  to  speak  with  me  again. 

Scarcely  five  minutes  had  elapsed  when  I  was  summoned 
once  more  before  him. 

"  You  have  come  at  a  most  opportune  moment,  Tiernay," 
said  he;  "Colonel  Cherin  informs  me  that  an  expedition  is 
ready  to  sail  from  Rochelle  at  the  first  favorable  wind.  Gen- 
eral Humbert  has  the  command ;  and  if  you  are  disposed  to 
join  him  I  will  give  you  a  letter  of  presentation." 

Of  course  I  did  not  hesitate  in  accepting  the  offer;  and 
while  the  general  drew  over  his  desk  to  write  the  letter,  I 
withdrew  towards  the  window  to  converse  with  Colonel 
Cherin. 

"  You  might  have  waited  long  enough,"  said  he,  laughing, 
"  if  the  affair  had  been  in  other  hands  than  Humbert's.  The 
delays  and  discussions  of  the  official  people,  the  difficulty  of 


170  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

anything  like  agreement,  the  want  of  money,  and  fifty  other 
causes  would  have  detained  the  fleet  till  the  English  got 
scent  of  the  whole.  But  Humbert  has  taken  the  short  road 
in  the  matter.  He  only  arrived  at  La  Rochelle  five  days 
ago,  and  now  he  is  ready  to  weigh  anchor." 

' '  And  in  what  way  has  he  accomplished  this  ?  "  asked  I, 
in  some  curiosity. 

"  By  a  method,"  replied  he,  laughing  again,  "which  is 
usually  reserved  for  an  enemy's  country.  Growing  weary  of 
a  correspondence  with  the  minister,  which  seemed  to  make 
little  progress,  and  urged  on  by  the  enthusiastic  stories  of 
the  Irish  refugees,  he  resolved  to  wait  no  longer ;  and  so  he 
has  called  on  the  merchants  and  magistrates  to  advance  him 
a  sum  on  military  requisition,  together  with  such  stores  and 
necessaries  as  he  stands  in  need  of." 

"  And  they  have  complied?  "  asked  I. 

"  Parhleu  !  that  have  they.  In  the  first  place,  they  had  no 
other  choice ;  and  in  the  second,  they  are  but  too  happy  to 
get  rid  of  him  and  his  '  Legion  Noir,'  as  they  are  called,  so 
cheaply.  A  thousand  louis  and  a  thousand  muskets  would 
not  pay  for  the  damage  of  these  vagabonds  each  night  they 
spent  in  the  town." 

I  confess  that  this  description  did  not  tend  to  exalt  the 
enthusiasm  I  had  conceived  for  the  expedition ;  but  it  was 
too  late  for  hesitation,  too  late  for  even  a  doubt.  Go  for- 
ward I  should,  whatever  might  come  of  it.  And  now  the 
general  had  finished  his  letter,  which,  having  sealed  and 
addressed,  he  gave  into  my  hand,  saying:  "  This  will  very 
probably  obtain  you  promotion,  if  not  at  once,  at  least  on 
the  first  vacancy.  Good-by,  my  lad ;  there  may  be  hard 
knocks  going  where  you  will  be,  but  I  'm  certain  you  '11  not 
disgrace  the  good  name  you  bear,  nor  the  true  cause  for  which 
you  are  fighting.  I  would  that  I  had  youth  and  strength  to 
stand  beside  you  in  the  struggle !     Good-by." 

He  shook  me  affectionately  by  both  hands ;  the  colonel, 
too,  bade  me  adieu  not  less  cordially ;  and  I  took  my  leave 
with  a  heart  overflowing  with  gratitude  and  delight. 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

LA    ROCHELLE. 

La  Rochelle  is  a  quiet  little  town  at  the  bottom  of  a  small 
bay,  the  mouth  of  which  is  almost  closed  up  by  two  islands. 
There  is  a  sleepy,  peaceful  air  about  the  place ;  a  sort  of 
drowsy  languor  pervades  everything  and  everybody  about  it, 
that  tells  of  a  town  whose  days  of  busy  prosperity  have  long 
since  passed  by,  and  which  is  dragging  out  life  like  some 
retired  tradesman,  —  too  poor  for  splendor,  but  rich  enough 
to  be  idle.  A  long  avenue  of  lime-trees  incloses  the  harbor ; 
and  here  the  merchants  conduct  their  bargains,  while  their 
wives,  seated  beneath  the  shade,  discuss  the  gossip  of  the 
place  over  their  work.  All  is  patriarchal  and  primitive  as 
Holland  itself,  the  very  courtesies  of  life  exhibiting  that 
ponderous  stateliness  which  insensibly  reminds  one  of  the 
land  of  dykes  and  broad  breeches.  It  is  the  least  "  French  " 
of  any  town  I  have  ever  seen  in  France  ;  none  of  that  light 
merriment,  that  gay  volatility  of  voice  and  air,  which  form 
the  usual  atmosphere  of  a  French  town.  All  is  still,  orderly, 
and  sombre ;  and  yet  on  the  night  in  which  —  something 
more  than  fifty  years  back  —  I  first  entered  it,  a  ver}^  differ- 
ent scene  was  presented  to  my  eyes. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock,  and  by  a  moon  nearly  full,  that 
the  diligence  rattled  along  the  covered  ways  of  the  old  for- 
tress, and  crossing  many  a  moat  and  drawbridge,  the  scenes 
of  a  once  glorious  struggle,  entered  the  narrow  streets,  trav- 
ersed a  wide  place,  and  drew  up  within  the  ample  portals  of 
La  Poste. 

Before  I  could  remove  the  wide  capote  which  I  wore,  the 
waiter  ushered  me  into  a  large  salon  where  a  party  of  about 
forty  persons  were  seated  at  supper.    With  a  few  exceptions 


172  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

they  were  all  military  officers,  and  sous-officiers  of  the  expe- 
dition, whose  noisy  gayety  and  boisterous  mirth  sufficiently 
attested  that  the  entertainment  had  begun  a  considerable 
time  before. 

A  profusion  of  bottles,  some  empty,  others  in  the  way  to 
become  so,  covered  the  table,  amidst  which  lay  the  fragments 
of  a  common  table-d'hote  supper,  —  large  dishes  of  cigars 
and  basins  of  tobacco  figuring  beside  the  omelettes  and  the 
salad. 

The  noise,  the  crash,  the  heat,  the  smoke,  and  the  con- 
fusion—  the  clinking  of  glasses,  the  singing,  and  the  speech- 
making —  made  a  scene  of  such  turmoil  and  uproar  that  I 
would  gladly  have  retired  to  some  quieter  atmosphere,  when 
suddenly  an  accidental  glimpse  of  my  uniform  caught  some 
eyes  among  the  revellers,  and  a  shout  was  raised  of  "  Halloa, 
comrades  !  here 's  one  of  the  '  Guides '  among  us  !  "  and  at 
once  the  whole  assembly  rose  up  to  greet  me.  For  full 
ten  minutes  I  had  to  submit  to  a  series  of  salutations,  which 
led  to  every  form,  from  hand-shaking  and  embracing  to 
kissing ;  while,  perfectly  unconscious  of  any  cause  for  my 
popularity,  I  went  through  the  ceremonies  like  one  in  a 
dream. 

' '  AVhere  's  Kilmaine  ?  "  "  What  of  Hardy  ?  "  "Is  Grouchy 
coming?  "  "  Can  the  Brest  fleet  sail?  "  "  How  many  line-of- 
battle  ships  have  they  ?  "  "  What 's  the  artillery  force  ?  " 
"Have  you  brought  any  money?"  This  last  question,  the 
most  frequent  of  all,  was  suddenly  poured  in  upon  me,  and 
with  so  fortunate  a  degree  of  rapidity  that  I  had  no  time  for  a 
reply,  had  I  even  the  means  of  making  one. 

"  Let  the  lad  have  a  seat  and  a  glass  of  wine  before  he  sub- 
mits to  this  interrogatory,"  said  a  fine,  jolly-looking  old 
chef-d'escadron  at  the  head  of  the  table,  while  he  made  a  place 
for  me  at  his  side.  "  Now  tell  us,  boy,  what  number  of  the 
'Guides'  are  to  be  of  our  party?" 

I  looked  a  little  blank  at  the  question,  for  in  truth  I  had 
not  heard  of  the  corps  before,  nor  was  I  aware  that  it  was 
their  uniform  I  was  then  wearing. 

"  Come,  come,  be  frank  with  us,  lad,"  said  he  ;  "we  are  all 
comrades  here.     Confound  secrecy,  say  I !  " 

"  Ay,  ay,"  cried  the  whole  assembly  together,  "confound 


LA   ROCHELLE.  173 

secrecy !  We  are  not  bandits  nor  highwaymen  ;  we  have  no 
need  of  concealment." 

"I'll  be  as  frank  as  you  can  wish,  comrades,"  said  I; 
"  and  if  I  lose  some  importance  in  your  eyes  by  owning  that 
I  am  not  the  master  of  a  single  state  secret,  I  prefer  to  tell 
you  so,  to  attempting  any  unworthy  disguise.  I  come  here, 
by  orders  from  General  Kilmaine,  to  join  your  expedition ; 
and  except  this  letter  for  General  Humbert,  I  have  no 
claim  to  any  consideration  whatever." 

The  old  chef  took  the  letter  from  my  hands  and  ex- 
amined the  seal  and  superscription  carefully,  and  then 
passed  the  document  down  the  table  for  the  satisfaction  of 
the  rest. 

While  I  continued  to  watch  with  anxious  eyes  the  letter 
on  which  so  much  of  my  own  fate  depended,  a  low  whisper- 
ing conversation  went  on  at  my  side,  at  the  end  of  which  the 
chef  said,  — 

"It's  more  than  likely,  lad,  that  your  regiment  is  not 
coming ;  but  our  general  is  not  to  be  balked  for  that.  Go 
he  will ;  and  let  the  Government  look  to  themselves  if  he  is 
not  supported !  At  all  events  you  had"  better  see  General 
Hum.bert  at  once  ;  there 's  no  saying  what  that  despatch  may 
contain.     Santerre,  conduct  him  upstairs." 

A  smart  young  fellow  arose  at  the  bidding,  and  beckoned 
me  to  follow  him. 

It  was  not  without  difficulty  that  we  forced  our  way  up- 
stairs, down  which  porters  and  sailors  and  soldiers  were 
now  carrying  a  number  of  heavy  trunks  and  packing-cases. 
At  last  we  gained  an  anteroom,  where  confusion  seemed  at 
its  highest,  crowded  as  it  was  by  soldiers,  the  greater 
number  of  them  intoxicated,  and  all  in  a  state  of  riotous 
and  insolent  insubordination.  Amongst  these  were  a 
number  of  the  townspeople,  eager  to  prefer  complaints  for 
outrage  and  robbery,  but  whose  subdued  voices  were  drowned 
amid  the  clamor  of  their  oppressors.  Meanwhile,  clerks 
were  writing  away  receipts  for  stolen  and  pillaged  articles, 
and  which,  signed  with  the  name  of  the  general,  were 
grasped  at  with  eager  avidity.  Even  personal  injuries 
were  requited  in  the  same  cheap  fashion,  orders  on  the 
national   treasury  being   freely   issued   for   damaged   noses 


174  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

and  smashed  heads,  and  gratefully  received  by  the  confiding 
populace. 

' '  If  the  wind  draws  a  little  more  to  the  southward  before 
morning,  we  '11  pay  our  debts  with  the  top-sail  sheet ;  and  it 
will  be  somewhat  shorter,  and  to  the  full  as  honest,"  said  a 
man  in  a  naval  uniform. 

"Where's  the  officer  of  the  '  Regiment  des  Guides'?" 
cried  a  soldier  from  the  door  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
room ;  and  before  I  had  time  to  think  over  the  designation 
of  rank  given  me,  I  was  hurried  into  the  general's 
presence. 

General  Humbert,  whose  age  might  have  been  thirty-eight 
or  forty,  was  a  tall,  well-built,  but  somewhat  over-corpulent 
man ;  his  features  frank  and  manly,  but  with  a  dash  of 
coarseness  in  their  expression,  particularly  about  the  mouth ; 
a  sabre-cut,  which  had  divided  the  upper  lip,  and  whose 
cicatrix  was  then  seen  through  his  mustache,  heightening 
the  effect  of  his  sinister  look.  His  carriage  was  singularly 
erect  and  soldier-like,  but  all  his  gestures  betrayed  the  habits 
of  one  who  had  risen  from  the  ranks,  and  was  not  unwilling 
to  revive  the  recollection. 

He  was  parading  the  room  from  end  to  end  when  I  en- 
tered, stopping  occasionally  to  look  out  from  an  open  window 
upon  the  baj^,  where  by  the  clear  moonlight  might  be  seen 
the  ships  of  the  fleet  at  anchor.  Two  officers  of  his  staff 
were  writing  busily  at  a  table,  whence  the  materials  of  a 
supper  had  not  yet  been  removed.  They  did  not  look  up  as 
I  came  forward,  nor  did  he  notice  me  in  any  way  for  several 
minutes.  Suddenly  he  turned  towards  me,  and  snatching 
the  letter  I  held  in  my  hand,  proceeded  to  read  it.  A 
burst  of  coarse  laughter  broke  from  him  as  he  perused  the 
lines ;  and  then  throwing  down  the  paper  on  the  table,  he 
cried  out,  — 

"  So^  much  for  Kilmaine's  contingent !  I  asked  for  a  com- 
pany of  engineers  and  a  squadron  of  '  Guides,'  and  they 
send  me  a  boy  from  the  cavalry-school  of  Saumur.  I  tell  them 
that  I  want  some  fellows  conversant  with  the  language  and 
the  people,  able  to  treat  with  the  peasantry,  and  acquainted 
with  their  habits,  and  here  I  have  got  a  raw  youth  whose 
highest    acquirements  in  all    likelihood  is  to  daub   a  map 


LA  ROCHELLE.  175 

with  water-colors,  or  take  fortifications  with  a  pair  of  com- 
passes !  I  wish  I  had  some  of  these  learned  gentlemen  in  the 
trenches  for  a  few  hours.  Parhleu!  I  think  I  could  teach 
them  something  they  don't  learn  from  Citizen  Carnot. 
Well,  sir,"  said  he,  turning  abruptly  towards  me,  "how 
many  squadrons  of  the  '  Guides '  are  completed  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell,  General,"  was  my  timid  answer. 

"  Where  are  they  stationed?  " 

"  Of  that  also  I  am  ignorant,  sir." 

''^  Peste!"  cried  he,  stamping  his  foot,  passionately;  then 
suddenly  checking  his  anger,  he  asked,  "  How  many  are 
coming  to  join  this  expedition?  Is  there  a  regiment,  a 
division,  a  troop?  Can  you  tell  me  with  certainty  that  a 
sergeant's-guard  is  on  the  way  hither  ?  " 

"  I  cannot,  sii*;  I  know  nothing  whatever  about  the  regi- 
ment in  question." 

"  You  have  never  seen  it?  "  cried  he,  vehemently. 

"  Never,  sir." 

"  This  exceeds  all  belief,"  exclaimed  he,  with  a  crash  of  his 
closed  fist  upon  the  table.  "Three  weeks'  letter-writing! 
Estafettes,  orderlies,  and  special  couriers  to  no  end !  And 
here  we  have  an  unfledged  cur  from  a  cavalry  institute,  when 
I  asked  for  a  strong  reinforcement.  Then  what  brought  you 
here,  boy?" 

"  To  join  your  expedition,  General." 

"Have  they  told  you  it  was  a  holiday-party  that  we 
had  planned?  Did  they  say  it  was  a  junketting  we  were 
bent  upon  ?  " 

"  If  they  had,  sir,  I  would  not  have  come." 

"The  greater  fool  j^ou,  then,  that's  all,"  cried  he,  laugh- 
ing; "when  I  was  your  age  I'd  not  have  hesitated  twice 
between  a  merry-making  and  a  bayonet-charge." 

While  he  was  thus  speaking,  he  never  ceased  to  sign  his 
name  to  every  paper  placed  before  him  by  one  or  other  of 
the  secretaries. 

"No,  parhleu!"  he  went  on,  "  Xa  maitresse  before  the 
mitraiUe  any  day  for  me.  But  what's  all  this,  Girard? 
Here  I'm  issuing  orders  upon  the  national  treasury  for 
hundreds  of  thousands  without  let  or  compunction." 

The  aide-de-camp  whispered  a  word  or  two  in  a  low  tone. 


176  MAURICE   TTERXAY. 

"  I  know  it,  lad  ;  I  know  it  well,"  said  the  general,  laugh- 
ing heartily ;  "I  only  pray  that  all  our  requisitions  may  be 
as  easily  obtained  in  future.  TTell,  Monsieur  le  Guide,  what 
are  we  to  do  with  you?" 

"Not  refuse  me,  I  hope,  General,"  said  I,  diffidently. 

' '  Not  refuse  you,  certainly  ;  but  in  what  capacity  to  take 
you.  lad,  that's  the  question.  If  you  had  served  —  if  you 
had  even  walked  a  campaign  —  " 

"  So  I  have,  General,  — this  will  show  you  where  I  have 
been ;  "  and  I  handed  him  the  livret  which  every  soldier 
caiTies  of  his  conduct  and  career. 

He  took  the  book,  and  casting  his  eyes  hastily  over  it, 
exclaimed,  — 

' '  Why,  what 's  this,  lad  ?  You  've  been  at  Kehl.  at  Emmen- 
dingen,  at  Rorsbach.  at  Huyningen,  through  all  that  Black 
Forest  affair  with  Moreau!  You  have  seen  smoke,  then. 
Ay !  I  see  honorable  mention  of  you  besides,  for  readiness 
in  the  field  and  zeal  during  action.  What !  more  brandy, 
Girard?  Why  our  Irish  friends  must  have  been  exceedingly 
thirsty.  I  've  given  them  credit  for  something  like  ten  thou- 
sand '  velts '  already  !  No  matter,  the  poor  fellows  may  have 
to  put  up  with  short  rations  for  all  this  yet,  and  there  goes 
my  signature  once  more.  What  does  that  blue  light  mean, 
Girard?"  said  he,  pointing  to  a  bright  blue  star  that  shone 
from  a  mast  of  one  of  the  ships  of  war. 

"  That  is  the  signal.  General,  that  the  embarkation  of  the 
artillery  is  complete." 

^''  Parbleuf"  said  he  with  a  laugh,  "it  need  not  have 
taken  long;  they've  given  in  two  batteries  of  eights,  and 
one  of  them  has  not  a  gun  fit  for  service.  There  goes  a 
rocket,  now.  Isn't  that  the  signal  to  heave  short  on  the 
anchors?  Y^es,  to  be  sure;  and  now  it  is  answered  by  the 
other !     Ha  !  lads,  this  does  look  like  business  at  last !  " 

The  door  opened  as  he  spoke,  and  a  naval  oflJcer  entered. 

"The  wind  is  drawing  round  to  the  south.  General;  we 
can  weigh  with  the  ebb  if  you  wish  it." 

"Wish  it!  if  I  wish  it!  Y^s,  with  my  whole  heart  and 
soul  I  do !  I  am  just  as  sick  of  La  Rochelle  as  is  La  Rochelle 
of  me.  The  salute  that  announces  our  departure  will  be  a 
feu-de-joie  to  both  of  us !     Ay,  sir,  tell  your  captain  that  I 


LA  ROCHELLE.  177 

need  no  further  notice  than  that  he  is  ready.  Girard,  see  to 
it  that  the  marauders  are  sent  on  board  in  irons.  The 
fellows  must  learn  at  once  that  discipline  begins  when  we 
trip  our  anchors.  As  for  you,"  said  he,  turning  to  me,  "  you 
shall  act  upon  my  staff  with  provisional  rank  as  sous-lieu- 
tenant: time  will  show  if  the  grade  should  be  confirmed. 
And  now  hasten  down  to  the  quay,  and  put  yourself  under 
Colonel  Serasin's  orders." 

Colonel  Serasin,  the  second  in  command,  was,  in  many 
respects,  the  very  opposite  of  Humbert.  Sharp,  petulant, 
and  irascible,  he  seemed  quite  to  overlook  the  fact  that  in  an 
expedition  which  was  little  better  than  a  foray  there  must 
necessarily  be  a  great  relaxation  of  the  rules  of  discipline, 
and  many  irregularities  at  least  winked  at  which  in  stricter 
seasons  would  call  for  punishment.  The  consequence  was 
that  a  large  proportion  of  our  force  went  on  board  under 
arrest,  and  many  actually  in  irons.  The  Irish  were,  without 
a  single  exception,  all  drunk ;  and  the  English  soldiers, 
who  had  procured  their  liberation  from  imprisonment  on 
condition  of  joining  the  expedition,  had  made  sufficiently 
free  with  the  brandy-bottle  to  forget  their  new  alliance,  and 
vent  then-  hatred  of  France  and  Frenchmen  in  expres- 
sions whose  only  alleviation  was  that  they  were  nearly 
unintelligible. 

Such  a  scene  of  uproar,  discord,  and  insubordination  never 
was  seen !  The  relative  conditions  of  guard  and  prisoner 
elicited  national  animosities  that  were  scarcely  even  dormant, 
and  many  a  bloody  encounter  took  place  between  those  whose 
instinct  was  too  powerful  to  feel  themselves  anything  but 
enemies.  A  cry,  too,  was  raised  that  it  was  meant  to  betray 
the  whole  expedition  to  the  English,  whose  fleet,  it  was  as- 
serted, had  been  seen  off  Oleron  that  morning ;  and  although 
there  was  not  even  the  shadow  of  a  foundation  for  the  belief, 
it  served  to  increase  the  alarm  and  confusion.  Whether 
originating  or  not  with  the  Irish,  I  cannot  say,  but  certainly 
they  took  advantage  of  it  to  avoid  embarking ;  and  now 
began  a  schism  which  threatened  to  wreck  the  whole  expedi- 
tion, even  in  the  harbor. 

The  Irish,  as  indifferent  to  the  call  of  discipline  as  they 
were  ignorant  of  French,  refused  to  obey  orders  save  from 

12 


178  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

officers  of  their  own  country ;  and  although  Serasin  ordered 
two  companies  to  "load  with  ball  and  fire  low,"  the  similar 
note  for  preparation  from  the  insurgents  induced  him  to 
rescind  the  command  and  try  a  compromise.  In  this  crisis 
I  was  sent  by  Serasin  to  fetch  what  was  called  the  ' '  Com- 
mittee," the  three  Irish  deputies  who  accompanied  the  force. 
They  had  already  gone  aboard  of  the  "  Dedalus,"  little  fore- 
seeing the  difficulties  that  were  to  arise  on  shore. 

Seated  in  a  small  cabin  next  the  wardroom  I  found  these 
three  gentlemen,  whose  names  were  Tone,  Teeling,  and 
Sullivan.  Their  attitudes  were  gloomy  and  despondent,  and 
their  looks  anything  but  encouraging  as  I  entered.  A  paper 
on  which  a  few  words  had  been  scrawled,  and  signed  with 
their  three  names  underneath,  lay  before  them,  and  on  this 
their  eyes  were  bent  with  a  sad  and  deep  meaning.  I  knew 
not  then  what  it  meant ;  but  I  af  tei-wards  learned  that  it  was 
a  compact  formerly  entered  into  and  drawn  up,  that  if  by  the 
chance  of  war  they  should  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands,  they 
would  anticipate  their  fate  by  suicide,  but  leave  to  the  Eng- 
lish government  all  the  ignominy  and  disgrace  of  their  death. 

They  seemed  scarcely  to  notice  me  as  I  came  forward,  and 
even  when  I  delivered  my  message  they  heard  it  with  a  half 
indifference. 

"What  do  you  want  us  to  do,  sir?"  said  Teeling,  the 
eldest  of  the  party.  "  We  hold  no  command  in  the  service. 
It  was  against  our  advice  and  counsel  that  you  accepted 
these  volunteers  at  all.     We  have  no  influence  over  them." 

"  Not  the  slightest,"  broke  in  Tone.  "  These  fellows  are 
bad  soldiers  and  worse  Irishmen.  The  expedition  will  do 
better  without  them." 

"And  they  better  without  the  expedition,"  muttered 
Sullivan,  dryly. 

"  But  you  will  come,  gentlemen,  and  speak  to  them,"  said 
I.  ' '  You  can  at  least  assure  them  that  their  suspicions  are 
unfounded." 

"Very  true,  sir,"  replied  Sullivan,  "we  can  do  so;  but 
with  what  success?  No,  no!  If  you  can't  maintain  dis- 
cipline here  on  your  own  soil,  you'll  make  a  bad  hand  of 
doing  it  when  you  have  your  foot  on  Irish  ground.  And, 
after  all,  I  for  one  am  not  surprised  at  the  report  gaining 
credence." 


LA  ROCHELLE.  179 

"How  so,  sir?"  asked  I,  indignantly. 

"  Simply  that  when  a  promise  of  fifteen  thousand  men 
dwindles  down  to  a  force  of  eight  hundred ;  when  a  hundred 
thousand  stand  of  arms  come  to  be  represented  by  a  couple 
of  thousand  ;  when  an  expedition,  pledged  by  a  government, 
has  fallen  down  to  a  marauding  party ;  when  Hoche  or 
Kleber  —  But  never  mind  ;  I  always  swore  that  if  you  sent 
but  a  corporal's  guard  that  I'd  go  with  them." 

A  musket  shot  here  was  heard,  followed  by  a  sharp  volley 
and  a  cheer,  and  in  an  agony  of  anxiety  I  rushed  to  the 
deck.  Although  above  half  a  mile  from  the  shore,  we  could 
see  the  movement  of  troops  hither  and  thither,  and  hear  the 
loud  words  of  command.  Whatever  the  struggle,  it  was 
over  in  a  moment,  and  now  we  saw  the  troops  descending 
the  steps  to  the  boats.  With  an  inconceivable  speed  the 
men  fell  into  their  places,  and,  urged  on  by  the  long  sweeps, 
the  heavy  launches  swept  across  the  calm  water  of  the  bay. 

If  a  cautious  reserve  prevented  any  open  questioning  as 
to  the  late  affray,  the  second  boat  which  came  alongside 
revealed  some  of  its  terrible  consequences.  Seven  wounded 
soldiers  were  assisted  up  the  side  by  their  comrades,  and  in 
total  silence  conveyed  to  then-  station  between  decks. 

"  A  bad  augury  this !  "  muttered  Sullivan,  as  his  eye  fol- 
lowed them.  "They  might  as  well  have  left  that  work  for 
the  English !  " 

A  swift  six-oar  boat,  with  the  tricolor  flag  floating  from  a 
flag-staff  at  her  stern,  now  skimmed  along  toward  us ;  and 
as  she  came  nearer  we  could  recognize  the  uniforms  of  the 
officers  of  Humbert's  staff,  while  the  burly  figure  of  the  gen- 
eral himself  was  soon  distinguishable  in  the  midst  of  them. 

As  he  stepped  up  the  ladder,  not  a  trace  of  displeasure 
could  be  seen  on  his  broad  bold  features.  Greeting  the 
assembled  officers  with  a  smile,  he  asked  how  the  wind  was. 

"All  fair,  and  freshening  at  every  moment,"  was  the 
answer. 

"May  it  continue!"  cried  he,  fervently.  "Welcome  a 
huiTicane,  if  it  only  waft  us  westward !  " 

The  foresail  filled  out  as  he  spoke,  the  heavy  ship  heaved 
over  to  the  wind,  and  we  began  our  voyage. 


CHAPTER   XYIII. 

*'  THE    BAY    OF    RATHFRAN." 

Our  voyage  was  very  uneventful,  but  not  without  anxiety ; 
since,  to  avoid  the  English  cruisers  and  the  Channel  fleet, 
we  were  obliged  to  hold  a  southerly  course  for  several  days, 
making  a  great  cii'cuit  before  we  could  venture  to  bear  up 
for  the  place  of  our  destination.  The  weather  alternated 
between  light  winds  and  a  dead  calm,  which  usually  came 
on  every  day  at  noon,  and  lasted  till  about  sunset.  As  to 
me,  there  was  an  unceasing  novelty  in  everything  about  a 
ship ;  her  mechanism,  her  discipline,  her  progress,  furnished 
abundant  occupation  for  all  my  thoughts,  and  I  never 
wearied  of  acquiring  knowledge  of  a  theme  so  deeply  inter- 
esting. My  intercourse  with  the  naval  officers,  too,  im- 
pressed me  strongly  in  their  favor  in  comparison  with  their 
comrades  of  the  land  service.  In  the  former  case,  all  was 
zeal,  acti\dty,  and  watchfulness.  The  look-out  never  slum- 
bered at  his  post ;  and  an  unceasing  anxiety  to  promote  the 
success  of  the  expedition  manifested  itself  in  all  their  words 
and  actions.  This,  of  course,  was  all  to  be  expected  in  the 
discharge  of  the  duties  peculiarly  their  own ;  but  I  also 
looked  for  something  which  should  denote  preparation  and 
forethought  in  the  others,  yet  nothing  of  the  kind  was  to  be 
seen.  The  expedition  was  never  discussed  even  as  table- 
talk  ;  and  for  anything  that  fell  from  the  party  in  conversa- 
tion, it  would  have  been  impossible  to  say  if  our  destination 
were  China  or  Ireland.  Not  a  book  nor  a  map,  not  a  pam- 
phlet nor  a  paper  that  bore  upon  the  country  whose  destinies 
were  about  to  be  committed  to  us,  ever  appeared  on  the 
tables.  A  vague  and  listless  doubt  how  long  the  voyage 
might  last  was  the  extent  of  interest  any  one  condescended 
to  exhibit;  but  as  to  what  was  to  follow  after,  what  new 


"THE   BAY   OF  RATHFRAN."  181 

chapter  of  events  should  open  when  this  first  had  closed, 
none  vouchsafed  to  inquire. 

Even  to  this  horn*  I  am  puzzled  whether  to  attribute  this 
strange  conduct  to  the  careless  levity  of  national  character, 
or  to  a  studied  and  well  "got  up"  affectation.  In  all 
probability  both  influences  were  at  work ;  while  a  thkd  not 
less  powerful,  assisted  them  :  this  was  the  gross  ignorance 
and  shameless  falsehood  of  some  of  the  Irish  leaders  of  the 
expedition,  whose  boastful  and  absurd  histories  ended  by 
disgusting  every  one.  Among  the  projects  discussed  at  the 
time,  I  well  remember  one  which  was  often  gravely  talked 
over,  and  the  utter  absurdity  of  which  certainly  struck  none 
amongst  us.  This  was  no  less  than  the  intention  of  demand- 
ing the  West  India  Islands  from  England  as  an  indemnity 
for  the  past  woes  and  bygone  misgovernment  of  Ireland. 
If  this  seem  barely  credible  now,  I  can  only  repeat  my  faith- 
ful assurance  of  the  fact;  and  I  believe  that  some  of  the 
memoirs  of  the  time  will  confirm  my  assertion. 

The  French  officers  listened  to  these  and  similar  specula- 
tions with  utter  indifference  ;  probably  to  many  of  them  the 
geographical  question  was  a  difficulty  that  stopped  any 
further  inquiry,  while  others  felt  no  further  interest  than 
what  a  campaign  promised.  All  the  enthusiastic  narratives, 
then,  of  high  rewards  and  splendid  trophies  that  awaited  us 
fell  upon  inattentive  ears,  and  at  last  the  word  Ireland 
ceased  to  be  heard  amongst  us.  Play  of  various  kinds 
occupied  us  when  not  engaged  on  duty.  There  was  little 
discipline  maintained  on  board,  and  none  of  that  strictness 
which  is  the  habitual  rule  of  a  ship-of-war.  The  lights  were 
suffered  to  burn  during  the  greater  part  of  the  night  in  the 
cabins ;  gambling  went  on  usually  till  daybreak ;  and  the 
quarter-deck,  that  most  reverential  of  spots  to  every  sailor- 
mind,  was  often  covered  by  lounging  groups,  who  smoked, 
chatted,  or  played  at  chess,  in  all  the  cool  apathy  of  men 
indifferent  to  its  claim  for  respect. 

Now  and  then,  the  appearance  of  a  strange  sail  afar  off, 
or  some  dim  object  in  the  horizon,  would  create  a  momen- 
tary degree  of  excitement  and  anxiety ;  but  when  the  "  look- 
out" from  the  mast-head  had  proclaimed  her  a  "schooner 
from   Brest"   or  a  "Spanish    fruit- vessel,"    the    sense    of 


182  MAURICE    TIERXAY. 

danger  passed  away  at  once,  and  none  ever  reverted  to  the 
subject. 

With  General  Humbert  I  usually  j^assed  the  greater  part 
of  each  forenoon,  —  a  distinction,  I  must  confess,  I  owed  to 
my  skill  as  a  chess-player,  a  game  of  which  he  was  par- 
ticularly fond,  and  in  which  I  had  attained  no  small  pro- 
ficiency. I  was  too  young  and  too  unpractised  in  the  world 
to  make  my  skill  subordinate  to  my  chief's,  and  beat  him  at 
every  game  with  as  little  compunction  as  though  he  were 
only  my  equal ;  till  at  last,  vexed  at  his  want  of  success,  and 
tired  of  a  contest  that  offered  no  vicissitude  of  fortune,  he 
would  frequently  cease  playing  to  chat  over  the  events  of 
the  time  and  the  chances  of  the  expedition. 

It  was  with  no  slight  mixtui'e  of  surprise  and  dismay 
that  I  now  detected  his  utter  despair  of  all  success,  and 
that  he  regarded  the  whole  as  a  complete  forlorn-hope.  He 
had  merely  taken  the  command  to  involve  the  French 
government  in  the  cause,  and  so  far  compromise  the  national 
character  that  all  retreat  would  be  impossible.  "  We  shall 
be  all  cut  to  pieces  or  taken  prisoners  the  day  after  we 
land,"  was  his  constant  exclamation;  "and  then,  but  not 
till  then,  will  they  think  seriously  in  France  of  a  suitable 
expedition."  There  was  no  heroism,  still  less  was  there  any 
affectation  of  recklessness,  in  this  avowal.  By  natm-e  he 
was  a  rough,  easy,  good-tempered  fellow,  who  liked  his 
profession  less  for  its  rewards  than  for  its  changeful  scenes 
and  mo\ing  incidents,  —  his  one  predominating  feeling  being 
that  France  should  give  rule  to  the  whole  world,  and  the 
principles  of  her  Revolution  be  everj^'here  pre-eminent.  To 
promote  this  consummation  the  loss  of  an  army  was  of  little 
moment.  Let  the  cause  but  triumph  in  the  end,  and  the 
cost  was  not  worth  fretting  about. 

Next  to  this  sentiment  was  his  hatred  of  England  and  all 
that  was  English.  Treachery,  falsehood,  pride,  avarice, 
grasping  covetousness,  and  unscrupulous  aggression  were 
the  characteristics  by  which  he  described  the  nation ;  and  he 
made  the  little  knowledge  he  had  gleaned  from  newspapers 
and  intercourse  so  subsei-vient  to  this  theory,  that  I  was  an 
easy  convert  to  his  opinion ;  so  that,  ere  long,  my  compas- 
sion for  the  wrongs  of  Ireland  was  associated  with  the  most 
profound  hatred  of  her  oppressors. 


"THE    BAY  OF   RATHFRAN."  183 

To  be  sure,  I  should  have  liked  the  notiou  that  we  our- 
selves were  to  have  some  more  active  share  iu  the  liberation 
of  Ii'ishmen  than  the  mere  act  of  heralding  another  and 
more  successful  expedition ;  but  even  in  this  thought  there 
was  romantic  self-devotion,  not  unpleasing  to  the  mind  of 
a  boy ;  but,  strange  enough,  I  was  the  only  one  who  felt 
it. 

The  first  sight  of  land  to  one  on  sea  is  always  an  event  of 
uncommon  interest ;  but  how  greatly  increased  is  the  feeling 
when  that  land  is  to  be  the  scene  of  a  perilous  exploit,  —  the 
cradle  of  his  ambition,  or  perhaps  his  grave !  All  my 
speculations  about  the  expedition,  all  my  day-dreams  of 
success  or  my  anxious  hours  of  dark  forebodings,  never 
brought  the  matter  so  palpably  before  me  as  the  dim  outline 
of  a  distant  headland,  which,  I  was  told,  was  part  of  the 
Irish  coast. 

This  was  on  the  8th  of  August,  but  on  the  following  day 
we  stood  farther  out  to  sea  again,  and  saw  no  more  of  it. 
The  tkree  succeeding  ones  we  continued  to  beat  up  slowly 
to  the  northward  against  a  head  wind  and  a  heavy  sea ;  but 
on  the  evening  of  the  21st  the  sun  went  down  in  mel- 
low splendor,  and  a  light  air  from  the  south  springing 
up,  the  sailors  pronounced  a  most  favorable  change  of 
weather,  —  a  prophecy  that  a  starry  night  and  a  calm  sea 
soon  confirmed. 

The  morning  of  the  22d  broke  splendidly ;  a  gentle  breeze 
from  the  southwest  slightly  curled  the  blue  waves,  and  filled 
the  canvas  of  the  three  frigates,  as  in  close  order  they  sailed 
along  under  the  tall  cliffs  of  Ireland.  We  were  about  three 
miles  from  the  shore,  on  which  now  every  telescope  and  glass 
was  eagerl}^  directed.  As  the  light  and  fleeting  clouds  of 
early  morning  passed  away  we  could  descry  the  outlines  of 
the  bold  coast,  indented  with  many  a  bay  and  creek,  while 
rocky  promontories  and  grassy  slopes  succeeded  each  other 
in  endless  variety  of  contrast.  Towns,  or  even  \illages,  we 
could  see  none ;  a  few  small  wretched-looking  hovels  were 
dotted  over  the  hills,  and  here  and  there  a  thin  wreath  of 
blue  smoke  bespoke  habitation,  but  save  these  signs  there 
was  an  air  of  loneliness  and  solitude  which  increased  the 
solemn  feelings  of  the  scene. 


184  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

All  these  objects  of  interest,  however,  soon  gave  way 
before  another,  to  the  contemplation  of  which  every  eye  was 
turned.  This  was  a  small  fishing-boat,  which,  with  a  low 
mast  and  ragged  piece  of  canvas,  was  seen  standing  boldly 
out  for  us ;  a  red  handkerchief  was  fastened  to  a  stick  in  the 
stern,  as  if  for  a  signal ;  and  on  our  shortening  sail,  to  admit 
of  her  overtaking  us,  the  ensign  was  lowered  as  though  in 
acknowledgment  of  our  meaning. 

The  boat  was  soon  alongside ;  and  we  now  perceived  that 
her  crew  consisted  of  a  man  and  a  boy,  the  former  of  whom, 
a  powerfully-built,  loose  fellow  of  about  five  and  forty, 
dressed  in  a  light-blue  frieze  jacket  and  trousers,  adroitly 
caught  at  the  cast  of  rope  thrown  out  to  him,  and  having 
made  fast  his  skiff,  clambered  up  the  ship's  side  at  once, 
gayly,  as  though  he  were  an  old  friend  coming  to  welcome  us. 

"  Is  he  a  pilot  ?  "  asked  the  oflScer  of  the  watch,  address- 
ing one  of  the  Irish  officers. 

"  No  ;  he  's  only  a  fisherman,  but  he  knows  the  coast  per- 
fectly, and  says  there  is  deep  water  within  twenty  fathoms 
of  the  shore." 

An  animated  conversation  in  Irish  now  ensued  between 
the  peasant  and  Captain  Madgett,  during  which  a  wondering 
and  somewhat  impatient  group  stood  around,  speedily  in- 
creased by  the  presence  of  General  Humbert  himself  and  his 
staff. 

"  He  tells  me.  General,"  said  Madgett,  "  that  we  are  in 
the  Bay  of  Killala,  —  a  good  and  safe  anchorage,  and,  during 
the  southerly  winds,  the  best  on  all  the  coast." 

"What  news  has  he  from  the  shore?"  asked  Humbert, 
sharply,  as  if  the  care  of  the  ship  was  a  very  secondary 
consideration. 

"They  have  been  expecting  us  with  the  greatest  impa- 
tience. General ;  he  says  the  most  intense  anxiety  for  our 
coming  is  abroad." 

"  What  of  the  people  themselves?  Where  are  the  national 
forces?  Have  they  any  headquarters  near  this?  Eh,  what 
says  he?  What  is  that?  Why  does  he  laugh?"  asked 
Humbert,  in  impatient  rapidity,  as  he  watched  the  changes 
in  the  peasant's  face. 

"  He  was  laughing  at  the  strange  sound  of  a  foreign  Ian- 


"THE  BAY  OF  RATKFRAN."  185 

guage,  so  odd  and  singular  to  his  ears,"  said  Madgett;  but 
for  all  his  readiness,  a  slight  flushing  of  the  cheek  showed 
that  he  was  ill  at  ease. 

"  Well,  but  what  of  the  Irish  forces?     Where  are  they?  " 

For  some  minutes  the  dialogue  continued  in  an  animated 
strain  between  the  two,  —  the  vehement  tone  and  gestures  of 
each  bespeaking  what  sounded  at  least  like  altercation ;  and 
Madgett  at  last  turned  half  angrily  away,  saying,  "The 
fellow  is  too  ignorant ;  he  actually  knows  nothing  of  what  is 
passing  before  his  eyes." 

"  Is  there  no  one  else  on  board  can  speak  this  baragouin- 
age  ?  "  cried  Humbert,  in  auger. 

"  Yes,  General,  I  can  Interrogate  him,"  cried  a  young  lad 
named  Conolly,  who  had  only  joined  us  on  the  day  before  we 
sailed. 

And  now  as  the  youth  addressed  the  fisherman  in  a  few 
rapid  sentences,  the  other  answered  as  quickly,  making  a 
gesture  with  his  hands  that  implied  grief  or  even  despair. 

"  We  can  interpret  that  for  ourselves,"  broke  in  Humbert; 
"  he  is  telling  you  that  the  game  is  up." 

"Exactly  so.  General;  he  says  that  the  insurrection  has 
been  completely  put  down,  that  the  Irish  forces  are  scattered 
or  disbanded,  and  all  the  leaders  taken." 

."The  fellow  is  just  as  likely  to  be  an  English  spy,"  said 
Madgett,  in  a  whisper ;  but  Humbert's  gesture  of  impatience 
showed  how  little  trust  he  reposed  in  the  allegation. 

"Ask  him  what  English  troops  are  quartered  in  this  part 
of  the  country,"  said  the  general. 

"  A  few  militia,  and  two  squadrons  of  dragoons,"  was  the 
prompt  reply. 

' '  No  artillery  ?  " 

"None." 

"Is  there  any  rumor  of  our  coming  abroad,  or  have  the 
frigates  been  seen?"  asked  Humbert. 

"  They  were  seen  last  night  from  the  church  steeple  of 
Killala,  General,"  said  Conolly,  translating,  "  but  believed 
to  be  English." 

"  Come,  that  is  the  best  news  he  has  brought  us  yet," 
said  Humbert,  laughing;  "we  shall  at  least  surprise  them  a 
little.     Ask   him   what  men   of   rank   or   consequence   live 


186  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

in  the  neighborhood,  and  how  are  they  affected  towards  the 
expedition  ?  " 

A  few  words  and  a  low  dry  laugh  made  all  the  peasant's 
reply. 

"  Eh,  what  says  he?  "  asked  Humbert. 

"He  says,  su',  that,  except  a  Protestant  bishop,  there's 
nothing  of  the  rank  of  gentry  here." 

"I  suppose  we  need  scarcely  expect  his  blessing  on  our 
efforts,"  said  Humbert,  with  a  hearty  laugh.  "What  is  he 
saying  now,  — what  is  he  looking  at?  " 

"He  says  that  we  are  now  in  the  very  best  anchorage  of 
the  bay,"  said  Conolly,  "  and  that  on  the  whole  coast  there  's 
not  a  safer  spot." 

A  brief  consultation  now  took  place  between  the  general 
and  naval  officers,  and  in  a  few  seconds  the  word  was  given 
to  take  in  all  sail  and  anchor. 

"  I  wish  I  could  speak  to  that  honest  fellow  myself,"  said 
Humbert,  as  he  stood  watching  the  fisherman,  who  with  a 
peasant  curiosity  had  now  approached  the  mast,  and  was 
passing  his  fingers  across  the  blades  of  the  cutlasses  as  they 
stood  in  the  sword-rack. 

' '  Sharp  enough  for  the  English,  eh  ?  "  cried  Humbert,  in 
French,  but  with  a  gesture  that  seemed  at  once  intelligible. 
A  dry  nod  of  the  head  gave  assent  to  the  remark. 

"If  I  understand  him  aright,"  said  Humbert,  in  a  half 
whisper  to  Conolty,  ' '  we  are  as  little  expected  by  our  friends 
as  by  our  enemies  ;  and  that  there  is  little  or  no  force  in  arms 
among  the  Irish." 

"There  are  j^lenty  ready  to  fight,  he  says,  sir,  but  none 
accustomed  to  discipline." 

A  gesture,  half  contemptuous,  was  all  Humbert's  reply, 
and  he  now  turned  away  and  walked  the  deck  alone  and  in 
silence.  Meanwhile  the  bustle  and  movements  of  the  crew 
continued,  and  soon  the  great  ships,  then-  sails  all  coiled,  lay 
tranquilly  at  anchor  in  a  sea  without  a  ripple. 

"  A  boat  is  coming  out  from  the  shore.  General,"  whispered 
the  lieutenant  on  duty. 

"  Ask  the  fisherman  if  he  knows  it." 

Conolly  drew  the  peasant's  attention  to  the  object,  and  the 
man  after  looking  steadily  for  a  few  seconds  became  terribly 
agitated. 


"THE   BAY   OF   RATHERAN."  187 

""What  is  it  man,  —  can't  you  tell  who  it  is?"  asked 
Conolly. 

But  although  so  composed  before,  so  ready  with  all  his 
replies,  he  seemed  now  totally  unmanned,  his  frank  and 
easy  features  being  struck  with  the  signs  of  palpable  teiTor. 
At  last,  and  with  an  effort  that  bespoke  all  his  fears,  he 
muttered,  — 

"'Tis  the  king's  boat  is  coming,  and  'tis  the  Collector's 
on  board  of  her !  " 

"Is  that  all?"  cried  Conolly,  laughing,  as  he  translated 
the  reply  to  the  general. 

"Won't  you  say  that  I'm  a  prisoner,  sir;  won't  you  tell 
them  that  you  '  took '  me  ?  "  said  the  fisherman,  in  an  accent 
of  fervent  entreaty,  for  already  his  mind  anticipated  the 
casualty  of  a  failure,  and  what  might  betide  him  afterwards. 
But  no  one  now  had  any  care  for  him  or  his  fortunes ;  all 
was  in  preparation  to  conceal  the  national  character  of  the 
ships.  The  marines  were  ordered  below,  and  all  others 
whose  uniforms  might  betray  their  country,  while  the  English 
colors  floated  from  every  mast-head. 

General  Humbert,  with  Serasin  and  two  others,  remained 
on  the  poop-deck,  where  they  continued  to  walk,  appar- 
ently devoid  of  any  peculiar  interest  or  anxiety  in  the 
scene.  Madgett  alone  betrayed  agitation  at  this  moment; 
his  pale  face  was  paler  than  ever,  and  there  seemed  to  me  a 
kind  of  studious  care  in  the  way  he  covered  himself  up  with 
his  cloak,  so  that  not  a  vestige  of  his  uniform  could  be 
seen. 

The  boat  now  came  close  under  our  lee,  and  Conolly  being 
ordered  to  challenge  her  in  English,  the  Collector,  standing 
up  in  the  stern,  touched  his  hat,  and  announced  his  rank. 
The  gangway-ladder  was  immediately  lowered,  and  three 
gentlemen  ascended  the  ship's  side  and  walked  aft  to  the 
poop.  I  was  standing  near  the  bulwark  at  the  time,  watch- 
ing the  scene  with  intense  interest.  As  General  Humbert 
stood  a  little  in  advance  of  the  rest,  the  Collector,  probably 
taking  him  for  the  captain,  addressed  him  with  some  cour- 
teous expressions  of  welcome,  and  was  proceeding  to  speak 
of  the  weather,  when  the  general  gently  stopped  him  by 
asking  if  he  spoke  French. 


188  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  teiTor  of  face  that  question  evoked. 
At  first,  looking  at  his  two  companions,  the  Collector  turned 
his  eyes  to  the  gaff,  where  the  English  flag  was  fly- 
ing ;  but  still  unable  to  utter  a  word,  he  stood  like  one 
entranced. 

"  You  have  been  asked  if  you  can  speak  French,  sir,"  said 
Conolly,  at  a  sign  from  the  general. 

' '  No  —  very  little  —  very  badly  —  not  at  all ;  but  is  n't  this 
—  am  I  not  on  board  of  —  " 

"Can  none  of  them  speak  French?"  said  Humbert, 
shortly. 

"  Y"es,  sir,"  said  a  young  man  on  the  Collector's  right ;  "  I 
can  make  myself  intelligible  in  that  language,  although  no 
great  proficient." 

"Who  are  you,  monsieur, — are  you  a  civilian?"  asked 
Humbert. 

"  Y^es,  sir.  I  am  the  son  of  the  Bishop  of  Killala,  and  this 
young  gentleman  is  my  brother." 

"  What  is  the  amount  of  the  force  in  this  neighborhood?  " 

"You  will  pardon  me,  sir,"  said  the  youth,  "if  Task, 
first,  who  it  is  puts  this  question,  and  under  what  ckcum- 
stances  lam  expected  to  answer  it?" 

"All  frank  and  open,  sir,"  said  Humbert,  good-humor- 
edly.  "I'm  the  General  Humbert,  commanding  the  army 
for  the  liberation  of  Ireland,  —  so  much  for  your  first  ques- 
tion. As  to  your  second  one,  I  believe  that  if  you  have 
any  concern  for  yourself  or  those  belonging  to  j^ou,  you  will 
find  that  nothing  will  serve  your  interest  so  much  as  truth 
and  plain  dealing." 

"  Fortunately,  then,  for  me,"  said  the  youth,  laughing,  "  I 
cannot  betray  m}^  king's  cause ;  for  I  know  nothing,  nothing 
whatever,  about  the  movement  of  troops.  I  seldom  go  ten 
miles  from  home,  and  have  not  been  even  at  Ballina  since 
last  winter." 

"  Why  so  cautious  about  your  information,  then,  sii'," 
broke  in  Serasin,  roughly,  "  since  you  have  none  to  give?" 

"Because  I  had  some  to  receive,  sir,  and  was  curious  to 
know  where  I  was  standing,"  said  the  young  man,  boldly. 

While  these  few  sentences  were  being  interchanged, 
Madgett  had  learned  from   the  Collector,   that,    except   a 


"THE    BAY   OF  EATHFRAN."  189 

few  companies  of  militia  and  fencibles,  tlie  country  was 
totally  unprovided  with  troops ;  but  lie  also  picked  up  that 
the  people  were  so  crest-fallen  and  subdued  in  coui-age  from 
the  late  failure  of  the  rebellion,  that  it  was  very  doubtful 
whether  our  coming  would  arouse  them  to  another  effort. 
This  information,  particularly  the  latter  part  of  it,  Madgett 
imparted  to  Plumbert  at  once ;  and  I  thought  by  his  manner, 
and  the  eagerness  with  which  he  spoke,  that  he  seemed  to  use 
all  his  powers  to  dissuade  the  general  from  a  landing ;  at 
least  I  overheard  him  more  than  once  say,  — 

' '  Had  we  been  further  north,  sir  —  " 

Hmnbert  quickly  stopped  him  by  the  words,  ''  And  what 
prevents  us  when  we  have  landed,  sir,  in  extending  our  line 
uorth'ard?  The  winds  cannot  surely  master  us,  when  we 
have  our  feet  on  the  sward.  Enough  of  all  this ;  let  these 
gentlemen  be  placed  in  security,  and  none  have  access  to 
them  without  my  orders.  Make  signal  for  the  commanding 
officers  to  come  on  board  here.  We  've  had  too  much  of 
speculation;   a  little  action  now  will  be  more  profitable." 

"  So,  we  are  prisoners,  it  seems  !  "  said  the  young  man  who 
spoke  French,  as  he  moved  away  with  the  others,  who,  far 
more  depressed  in  spu-it,  hung  their  heads  in  silence,  as  they 
descended  between  decks. 

Scarcely  was  the  signal  for  a  council  of  war  seen  from 
the  mast-head,  when  the  different  boats  might  be  descried 
stretching  across  the  bay  with  speed ;  and  now  all  were 
assembled  in  General  Humbert's  cabin  whose  rank  and 
station  in  the  service  entitled  them  to  the  honor  of  being 
consulted. 

To  such  of  us  as  held  inferior  "grade"  the  time  passed 
tediously  enough  as  we  paced  the  deck,  now  turning  from 
the  aspect  of  the  silent  and  seemingly  uninhabited  cliffs  along 
shore  to  listen  if  no  sign  betokened  the  breaking  up  of  the 
council ;  nor  were  we  without  serious  fears  that  the  expedi- 
tion would  be  abandoned  altogether.  This  suspicion  origi- 
nated with  some  of  the  Irish  themselves,  who,  however 
confident  of  success  and  boastful  of  their  country's  resources 
before  we  sailed,  now  made  no  scruple  of  averring  that  every- 
thing was  the  exact  reverse  of  what  they  had  stated  ;  for  that 
the  people  were  dispirited,  the  national  forces  disbanded, 


190  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

neither  arms,  money,  nor  organization  anywhere, — in  fact, 
that  a  more  hopeless  scheme  could  not  be  thought  of  than  the 
attempt,  and  that  its  result  could  not  fail  to  be  defeat  and 
ruin  to  all  concerned. 

Shall  I  own  that  the  bleak  and  lonely  aspect  of  the  hills 
along  shore,  the  dreary  character  of  the  landscape,  the  almost 
death-like  stillness  of  the  scene,  aided  these  gloomy  impres- 
sions, and  made  it  seem  as  if  we  were  about  to  try  our 
fortune  on  some  desolate  spot,  without  one  look  of  encour- 
agement or  one  word  of  welcome  to  greet  us  ?  The  sight  of 
even  an  enemy's  force  would  have  been  a  relief  to  this  soli- 
tude, the  stir  and  movement  of  a  rival  army  would  have 
given  spirit  to  our  daring  and  nerved  our  courage ;  but 
there  was  something  inexpressibly  sad  in  this  unbroken 
monotony. 

A  few  tried  to  jest  upon  the  idea  of  liberating  a  land  that 
had  no  inhabitants,  the  emancipation  of  a  country  without 
people ;  but  even  French  flippancy  failed  to  be  witty  on  a 
theme  so  linked  with  all  our  hopes  and  fears,  and  at  last  a 
dreary  silence  fell  upon  all,  and  we  walked  the  deck  without 
speaking,  waiting  and  watching  for  the  result  of  that  delib- 
eration which  already  had  lasted  above  four  mortal  hours. 

Twice  was  the  young  man  who  spoke  French  summoned  to 
the  cabin,  but,  from  the  briefness  of  his  stay,  apparentl}^  with 
little  profit ;  and  now  the  day  began  to  wane,  and  the  tall 
cliffs  thi'ew  their  lengthened  shadows  over  the  still  waters  of 
the  bay,  and  yet  nothing  was  resolved  on.  To  the  quiet  and 
respectful  silence  of  expectation  now  succeeded  a  low  and 
half-subdued  muttering  of  discontent ;  groups  of  five  or  six 
together  were  seen  along  the  deck,  talking  with  eagerness 
and  animation,  and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  whatever  prudential 
or  cautious  reasons  dictated  to  the  leaders,  their  arguments 
found  little  sympathy  with  the  soldiers  of  the  expedition.  I 
almost  began  to  fear  that  if  a  determination  to  abandon  the 
exploit  were  come  to,  a  mutiny  might  break  out,  when  my 
attention  was  drawn  off  by  an  order  to  accompany  Colonel 
Charost  on  shore  to  "  reconnoitre."  This  at  least  looked  like 
business,  and  I  jumped  into  the  small  boat  with  alacrity. 

With  the  speed  of  four  oars  stoutly  plied,  we  skimmed 
alons;  the  calm  surface,  and  soon  saw  ourselves  close  in  to 


"THE  BAY  OF  RATKFRAN."  191 

the  shore.  Some  little  time  was  spent  in  looking  for  a  good 
place  to  land,  for  although  not  the  slightest  air  of  wind  was 
blowing,  the  long  swell  of  the  Atlantic  broke  upon  the  rocks 
with  a  noise  like  thunder.  At  last  we  shot  into  a  little  creek 
with  a  shelving  gravelly  beach,  and  completely  concealed  by 
the  tall  rocks  on  every  side ;  and  now  we  sprang  out,  and 
stood  upon  Irish  ground  ! 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

A  "reconnaissance." 

From  the  little  creek  where  we  landed,  a  small  zig-zag  path 
led  up  the  sides  of  the  cliff,  the  track  b}^  which  the  peasants 
carried  the  sea-weed  which  the}^  gathered  for  manure ;  and 
up  this  we  now  slowly  wended  our  way,  —  stopping  for  some 
time  to  gaze  at  the  ample  bay  beneath  us,  the  tall-masted 
frigates  floating  so  majestically^  on  its  glassy  surface.  It  was 
a  scene  of  tranquil  and  picturesque  beauty,  with  which  it 
would  have  been  almost  impossible  to  associate  the  idea  of 
war  and  invasion.  In  the  lazy  bunting  that  hung  listlessly 
from  peak  and  mast-head,  in  the  cheerful  voices  of  the 
sailors  heard  afar  off  in  the  stillness,  in  the  measured  plash 
of  the  sea  itself,  and  the  fearless  daring  of  the  sea-gulls  as 
they  soared  slowly  above  our  heads,  there  seemed  something 
so  suggestive  of  peace  and  tranquillity  that  it  struck  us  as 
profanation  to  disturb  it. 

As  we  gained  the  top  alid  looked  around  us,  our  astonish- 
ment became  even  greater.  A  long  succession  of  low  hills, 
covered  with  tall  ferns  or  heath,  stretched  away  on  every 
side,  —  not  a  house,  nor  a  hovel,  nor  a  living  thing  to  be 
seen.  Had  the  country  been  one  uninhabited  since  the 
Creation,  it  could  not  have  presented  an  aspect  of  more 
thorough  desolation.  No  road-track,  not  even  a  foot-path, 
led  through  the  dreary  waste  before  us,  on  which,  to  all  seem- 
ing, the  foot  of  man  had  never  fallen ;  and  as  we  stood  for 
some  moments,  uncertain  which  way  to  turn,  a  sense  of  the 
ridiculous  suddenly  burst  upon  the  party,  and  we  all  broke 
into  a  hearty  roar  of  laughter. 

''I  little  thought,"  cried  Charost,  "that  I  should  ever 
emulate  La  Perouse ;  but  it  strikes  me  that  I  am  destined 
to  become  a  sfreat  discoverer." 


A   "RECONNAISSANCE."  193 

*'How  so,  Colonel?"  asked  his  aide-de-camp. 

*'AYhy,  it  is  quite  clear  that  this  same  island  is  unin- 
habited ;  and  if  it  be  all  like  this,  I  own  I  'm  scarcely  sur- 
prised at  it." 

"  Still,  there  must  be  a  town  not  far  off,  and  the  residence 
of  that  bishop  we  heard  of  this  morning." 

A  half  incredulous  shrug  of  the  shoulders  was  all  his 
reply,  as  he  sauntered  along  with  his  hands  behind  his  back, 
apparently  lost  in  thought;  while  we,  as  if  instinctively 
partaking  of  his  gloom,  followed  him  in  total  silence. 

''Do  you  know,  gentlem.en,  what  I'm  thinking  of?"  said 
he,  stopping  suddenly  and  facing  about.  "My  notion  is, 
that  the  best  thing  to  do  here  would  be  to  plant  our  tricolor, 
proclaim  the  land  a  colony  of  France,  and  take  to  our  boats 
again." 

This  speech,  delivered  with  an  air  of  great  gra\ity,  imposed 
upon  us  for  an  instant ;  but  the  moment  after,  the  speaker 
breaking  into  a  hearty  laugh,  we  all  joined  him,  as  much 
amused  by  the  strangeness  of  our  situation  as  by  anything 
in  his  remark. 

"  We  never  could  bring  our  guns  through  a  soil  like  this, 
Colonel,"  said  the  aide-de-camp,  as  he  struck  his  heel  into 
the  soft  and  clayey  surface. 

"If  we  could  ever  land  them  at  all!  "  muttered  he,  half 
aloud;  then  added,  "But  for  what  object  should  we? 
Believe  me,  gentlemen,  if  we  are  to  have  a  campaign  here, 
bows  and  arrows  are  the  true  weapons." 

' '  Ah,  what  do  I  see  yonder  ?  "  cried  the  aide-de-camp ; 
"  are  not  those  sheep  feeding  in  that  little  glen?  " 

"  Yes,"  cried  I,  "  and  a  man  herding  them,  too.  See,  the 
fellow  has  caught  sight  of  us,  and  he 's  off  as  fast  as  his  legs 
can  carry  him."  And  so  was  it:  the  man  had  no  sooner 
seen  us  than  he  sprung  to  his  feet  and  hurried  down  the 
mountain  at  full  speed. 

Our  first  impulse  was  to  follow  and  give  him  chase,  and 
even  without  a  word  we  all  started  off  in  pursuit ;  but  we 
soon  saw  how  fruitless  would  be  the  attempt,  for,  even 
independent  of  the  start  he  had  got  of  us,  the  peasant's 
speed  was  more  than  the  double  of  our  own. 

"  No  matter,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  if  we  have  lost  the  shep- 

13 


194  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

herd  we  have  at  least  gained  the  sheep,  and  so  I  recommend 
you  to  secure  mutton  for  dinner  to-morrow." 

With  this  piece  of  advice,  down  the  hill  he  darted  as  hard 
as  he  could,  Briolle,  the  aide-de-camp,  and  myself  following 
at  our  best  pace.  We  were  reckoning  without  our  host,  how- 
ever ;  for  the  animals,  after  one  stupid  stare  at  us,  set  off  in 
a  scamper  that  soon  showed  their  mountain  breeding,  keep- 
ing all  together  like  a  pack  of  hounds,  and  really  not  very 
Inferior  in  the  speed  they  displayed. 

A  little  gorge  led  between  the  hills,  and  through  this  they 
rushed  madly,  and  with  a  clatter  like  a  charge  of  cavalry. 
Excited  by  the  chase,  and  emulous  each  to  outrun  the  other, 
the  colonel  threw  off  his  shako,  and  Briolle  his  sword,  in  the 
ardor  of  pursuit.  We  now  gained  on  them  rapidly,  and 
though,  from  a  winding  in  the  glen,  they  had  momentarily 
got  out  of  sight,  we  knew  that  we  were  close  upon  them.  I 
was  about  thu-ty  paces  in  advance  of  my  comrades,  when,  on 
turning  an  angle  of  the  gorge,  I  found  myself  directly  in 
front  of  a  group  of  mud  hovels,  near  which  were  standing 
about  a  dozen  ragged,  miserable-looking  men,  armed  with 
pitchforks  and  scythes,  while  in  the  rear  stood  the  sheep, 
blowing  and  panting  from  the  chase. 

I  came  to  a  dead  stop ;  and  although  I  would  have  given 
worlds  to  have  had  my  comrades  at  my  side,  I  never  once 
looked  back  to  see  if  they  were  coming,  but,  putting  a  bold 
face  on  the  matter,  called  out  the  only  few  words  I  knew  of 
Irish,  "  Go  de-mat  ha  tu." 

The  peasants  looked  at  each  other ;  and  whether  it  was  my 
accent,  my  impudence,  or  my  strange  dress  and  appearance, 
or  altogether,  I  cannot  say,  but  after  a  few  seconds'  pause 
they  burst  out  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  in  the  midst  of  which 
my  two  comrades  came  up. 

"We  saw  the  sheep  feeding  on  the  hills  yonder,"  said  I, 
recovering  self-possession,  "  and  guessed  that  by  giving  them 
chase  they  'd  lead  us  to  some  inhabited  spot.  What  is  this 
place  called?" 

"  Shindrennin,"  said  a  man  who  seemed  to  be  the  chief  of 
the  party;  "and,  if  I  might  make  so  bould,  who  are  you 
yourselves  ? " 

"  French  officers ;  this  is  my  colonel,"  said  I,  pointing  to 


A  "RECONNAISSANCE."  195 

Charost,  who  was  wiping  his  forehead  and  face  after  his  late 
exertion. 

The  information,  far  from  producing  the  electric  effect  of 
pleasure  I  had  anticipated,  was  received  with  a  coldness 
almost  amounting  to  fear,  and  they  spoke  eagerly  together 
for  some  minutes  in  Irish. 

"  Our  allies  evidently  don't  like  the  look  of  us,"  said 
Charost,  laughing;  "and  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  I  own 
the  disappointment  is  mutual." 

"'Tis  too  late  you  come,  sir,"  said  the  peasant,  address- 
ing the  colonel,  while  he  removed  his  hat,  and  assumed  an 
air  of  respectful  deference.  "  'T  is  all  over  with  poor  Ireland, 
this  time." 

"Tell  him,"  said  Charost,  to  whom  I  translated  the  speech, 
"that  it's  never  too  late  to  assert  a  good  cause;  that  we 
have  got  arms  for  twenty  thousand,  if  they  have  but  hands 
and  hearts  to  use  them.  Tell  him  that  a  French  army  is  now 
lying  in  that  bay  yonder,  ready  and  able  to  accomplish  the 
independence  of  Ireland." 

I  delivered  my  speech  as  pompously  as  it  was  briefed  to 
me ;  and  although  I  was  listened  to  in  silence  and  respect- 
fully, it  was  plain  my  words  carried  little  or  no  conviction 
with  them.  Not  caring  to  waste  more  of  our  time  in  such 
discourse,  I  now  inquired  about  the  country,  —  in  what 
directions  lay  the  high-roads,  and  the  relative  situations  of 
the  towns  of  Killala,  Castlebar,  and  Ballina,  the  only  places 
of  comparative  importance  in  the  neighborhood.  I  next 
asked  about  the  landing-places,  and  learned  that  a  small 
fishing-harbor  existed  not  more  than  half  a  mile  from  the 
spot  where  we  had  landed,  from  which  a  little  country  road 
lay  to  the  village  of  Palmerstown.  As  to  the  means  of  trans- 
porting baggage,  guns,  and  ammunition,  there  were  few  horses 
to  be  had ;  but  with  money  we  might  get  all  we  wanted,  — 
indeed,  the  peasants  constantly  referred  to  this  means  of 
success,  even  to  asking  "What  the  French  would  give  a 
man  that  was  to  join  them?"  If  I  did  not  translate  the 
demand  with  fidelity  to  my  colonel,  it  was  really  that  a  sense 
of  shame  prevented  me.  My  whole  heart  was  in  the  cause  ; 
and  I  could  not  endure  the  thought  of  its  being  degraded  in 
this  way.    It  was  growing  duskish,  and  the  colonel  proposed 


196  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

that  the  peasant  should  show  us  the  way  to  the  fishing-har- 
bor he  spoke  of,  while  some  other  of  the  party  might  go 
round  to  our  boat,  and  direct  them  to  follow  us  thither. 
The  arrangement  was  soon  made,  and  we  all  sauntered  down 
towards  the  shore,  chatting  over  the  state  of  the  country 
and  the  chances  of  a  successful  rising.  From  the  speci- 
men before  me,  I  was  not  disposed  to  be  over  sanguine 
about  the  peasantry.  The  man  was  evidently  disaffected 
towards  England,  — he  bore  her  neither  good-will  nor  love; 
but  his  fears  were  greater  than  all  else.  He  had  never  heard 
of  anything  but  failure  in  all  attempts  against  her;  and 
he  could  not  believe  in  any  other  result.  Even  the  aid  and 
alliance  of  France  inspired  no  other  feeling  than  distrust; 
for  he  said  more  than  once,  "Sure,  what  can  harm  yez? 
Have  n't  ye  yer  ships  beyant,  to  take  yez  away  if  things 
goes  bad  ?  " 

I  was  heartily  glad  that  Colonel  Charost  knew  so  little 
English,  that  the  greater  part  of  the  peasant's  conversation 
was  unintelligible  to  him,  since  from  the  first  he  had  always 
spoken  of  the  expedition  in  terms  of  disparagement;  and 
certainly  what  we  were  now  to  hear  was  not  of  a  nature  to 
controvert  the  prediction. 

In  our  ignorance  as  to  the  habits  and  modes  of  thought 
of  the  people,  we  were  much  surprised  at  the  greater  interest 
the  peasant  betrayed  when  asking  us  about  France  and  her 
prospects  than  when  the  conversation  concerned  his  own 
countr3\  It  appeared  as  though  in  the  one  case  distance 
gave  grandeur  and  dimensions  to  all  his  conceptions,  while 
familiarity  with  home  scenes  and  native  politics  had  robbed 
them  of  all  their  illusions.  He  knew  well  that  there  were 
plenty  of  hardships,  abundance  of  evils,  to  deplore  in  Ire- 
land :  rents  were  high,  taxes  and  tithes  oppressive,  agents 
were  severe,  bailiffs  were  cruel.  Social  wrongs  he  could 
discuss  for  hours ;  but  of  political  woes,  the  only  ones  we 
could  be  expected  to  relieve  or  care  for,  he  really  knew  noth- 
ing. "  'Tis  true,"  he  repeated,  "  that  what  my  honor  said 
was  all  right,  Ireland  was  badly  treated,"  and  so  on;  "lib- 
erty was  an  elegant  thing  if  a  body  had  it,"  and  such  like; 
but  there  ended  his  patriotism. 

Accustomed  for  many  a  day  to  the  habits   of  a  people 


I 


A  "RECONNAISSANCE."  197 

where  all  were  politicians,  where  the  rights  of  man  and  the 
grand  principles  of  equality  and  self-government  were  ever- 
lastingly under  discussion,  I  was,  I  confess  it,  sorely  disap- 
pointed at  this  worse  than  apathy. 

"  Will  they  fight?  Ask  him  that,"  said  Charost,  to  whom 
I  had  been  conveying  a  rather  rose-colored  version  of  my 
friend's  talk. 

"  Oh,  be  gorra !  we  '11  fight  sure  enough !  "  said  he,  with  a 
half -dogged  scowl  beneath  his  brows. 

* '  What  number  of  them  may  we  reckon  on  in  the  neigh- 
borhood?" repeated  the  colonel. 

' '  'T  is  mighty  har  to  say  ;  many  of  the  boys  were  gone 
over  to  England  for  the  harvest;  some  were  away  to  the 
counties  inland  ;  others  were  working  on  the  roads,  —  but  if 
they  knew,  sure  they'd  be  soon  back  again." 

"Might  they  calculate  on  a  thousand  stout,  effective 
men?"  asked  Charost. 

"Ay,  twenty,  if  they  were  at  home,"  said  the  peasant, 
less  a  liar  by  intention  than  from  the  vague  and  careless  dis- 
regard of  truth  so  common  in  all  their  own  intercourse  with 
each  other. 

I  must  own  that  the  degree  of  credit  we  reposed  in  the 
worthy  man's  information  was  considerably  influenced  by  the 
state  of  facts  before  us,  inasmuch  as  the  "  elegant,  fine  har- 
bor "  he  had  so  gloriously  described,  "  the  beautiful  road," 
"  the  neat  little  quay  "  to  land  upon,  and  the  other  advan- 
tages of  the  spot,  all  turned  out  to  be  most  grievous  disap- 
pointments. That  the  people  were  not  of  our  own  mind  on 
these  matters  was  plain  enough  from  the  looks  of  astonish- 
ment our  discontent  provoked ;  and  now  a  lively  discussion 
ensued  on  the  relative  merits  of  various  bays,  creeks,  and 
inlets  along  the  coast,  each  of  which,  with  some  unpro- 
nounceable name  or  other,  was  seen  to  have  a  special  ad- 
vocate in  its  favor,  till  at  last  the  colonel  lost  all  patience, 
and  jumping  into  the  boat,  ordered  the  men  to  push  off  for 
the  frigate. 

Evidently  out  of  temper  at  the  non-success  of  his  ' '  recon- 
naissance," and  as  little  pleased  with  the  country  as  the 
people,  Charost  did  not  speak  a  word  as  we  rowed  back  to 
the  ship.     Our  failure,  as  it  happened,  was  of  little  moment; 


198  MAUKICE   TIERNAY. 

for  another  party,  under  the  guidance  of  Madgett,  had 
akeady  discovered  a  good  landing-place  at  the  bottom  of 
the  Ba}"  of  Rathfran,  and  arrangements  were  already  m 
progress  to  disembark  the  troops  at  daybreak.  We  also 
found  that  dm*ing  our  absence  some  of  the  "chiefs"  had 
come  off  from  shore,  one  of  whom,  named  Neal  Kerrigan, 
was  destined  to  attain  considerable  celebrity  in  the  rebel 
army.  He  was  a  talkative,  vulgar,  presumptuous  fellow, 
who,  without  any  knowledge  or  experience  whatever,  took 
upon  him  to  discuss  military  measures  and  strategy  with  all 
the  assurance  of  an  old  commander. 

Singularly  enough,  Humbert  suffered  this  man  to  influence 
him  in  a  great  degree,  and  yielded  opinion  to  him  on  points 
even  where  his  own  judgment  was  du*ectly  opposed  to  the 
advice  he  gave. 

If  Kerrigan's  language  and  bearing  were  directly  the 
reverse  of  soldier-like,  his  tawdry  uniform  of  green  and  gold, 
with  massive  epaulettes  and  a  profusion  of  lace,  were  no  less 
absurd  in  om-  eyes,  accustomed  as  we  were  to  the  almost 
pmitan  plainness  of  military  costume.  His  rank,  too,  seemed 
as  undefined  as  his  information ;  for  while  he  called  himself 
"general,"  his  companions  as  often  addressed  him  by  the 
title  of  "  captain."  Upon  some  points  his  counsels,  indeed, 
alarmed  and  astonished  us. 

"It  was  of  no  use  whatever,"  he  said,  "to  attempt  to 
discipline  the  peasantry,  or  reduce  them  to  anything  like 
habits  of  military  obedience.  Were  the  effort  to  be  made,  it 
would  prove  a  total  f ailm-e ;  for  they  would  either  grow  dis- 
gusted with  the  restraint,  and  desert  altogether,  or  so  infect 
the  other  troops  with  their  own  habits  of  disorder  that  the 
whole  force  would  become  a  mere  rabble.  Arm  them  well, 
let  them  have  plenty  of  ammunition,  and  free  liberty  to  use 
it  in  then*  own  way  and  their  own  time,  and  we  should  soon 
see  that  they  would  prove  a  greater  terror  to  the  English  than 
double  the  number  of  trained  and  disciplined  troops." 

In  some  respects  this  view  was  a  correct  one ;  but  whether 
it  was  a  wise  counsel  to  have  followed,  subsequent  events 
gave  us  ample  cause  to  doubt. 

Kerrigan,  however,  had  a  specious,  reckless,  go-a-head 
way  with  him  that  suited  well  the  tone  and  temper  of  Hum- 


A   "RECONNAISSANCE."  199 

bert's  mind.  He  never  looked  too  far  into  conseqnonces,  but 
trusted  that  the  eventualities  of  the  morrow  would  always 
suggest  the  best  course  for  the  day  after ;  and  this  alone  was 
so  akin  to  our  own  general's  mode  of  proceeding  that  he 
speedily  won  his  confidence. 

The  last  evening  on  board  was  spent  merrily  on  all  sides. 
In  the  general  cabin,  where  the  staff  and  all  the  chefs  cle 
brigade  were  assembled,  gay  songs  and  toasts  and  speeches 
succeeded  each  other  till  nigh  morning.  The  printed  pro- 
clamations, meant  for  circulation  among  the  people,  were 
read  out  with  droll  commentaries ;  and  all  imaginable  quiz- 
zing and  jesting  went  on  about  the  new  government  to  be 
established  in  Ireland,  and  the  various  offices  to  be  bestowed 
upon  each.  Had  the  whole  expedition  been  a  joke,  the  tone 
of  levity  could  not  have  been  greater.  Not  a  thought  was 
bestowed,  not  a  word  wasted,  upon  any  of  the  graver  inci- 
dents that  might  ensue.  All  were,  if  not  hopeful  and  san- 
guine, utterly  reckless,  and  thoroughly  indifferent  to  the 
future. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

KILLALA, 

I  WILL  not  weary  my  reader  with  an  account  of  our  debarka- 
tion, less  remarkable  as  it  was  for  the  ' '  pomp  and  cu'cum- 
stance  of  war"  than  for  incidents  and  accidents  the  most 
absurd  and  ridiculous,  —  the  miserable  boats  of  the  peasantry, 
the  still  more  wretched  cattle  employed  to  drag  our  artillery 
and  train  wagons,  involving  us  in  innumerable  misfortunes 
and  mischances.  Never  were  the  heroic  illusions  of  war 
more  thoroughly  dissipated  than  by  the  scenes  which  accom- 
panied our  lauding,  —  boats  and  baggage-wagons  upset ; 
here,  a  wild,  half  savage-looking  fellow  swimming  after  a 
cocked  hat ;  there,  a  group  of  ragged  wretches  scraping  sea- 
weed from  a  dripping  officer  of  the  staff ;  noise,  uproar,  and 
confusion  everywhere ;  smart  aides-de-camp  mounted  on 
donkeys ;  trim  field-pieces  ' '  horsed "  by  a  promiscuous 
assemblage  of  men,  women,  cows,  ponies,  and  asses.  Crowds 
of  idle  country  people  thronged  the  little  quay,  and,  obstruct- 
ing the  passages,  gazed  upon  the  whole  with  eyes  of  wonder- 
ment and  surprise,  but  evidently  enjoying  all  the  drollery  of 
the  scene  with  higher  relish  than  they  felt  interest  in  its 
object  or  success.  This  trait  in  them  soon  attracted  all  our 
notice,  for  they  laughed  at  everything ;  not  a  caisson  tum- 
bled into  the  sea,  not  a  donkey  brought  his  rider  to  the 
ground,  but  one  general  shout  shook  the  entire  assemblage. 

If  want  and  privation  had  impressed  themselves  by  every 
external  sign  on  this  singular  people,  they  seemed  to  possess 
inexhaustible  resources  of  good  humor  and  good  spmts 
within.  No  impatience  or  rudeness  on  our  part  could  irritate 
them;  and  even  to  the  wildest  and  least  civilized-looking 
fellow  around,  there  was  a  kind  of  native  courtes}'-  and  kindli- 
ness that  could  not  fail  to  strike  us. 


KILLALA.  201 

A  vague  notion  prevailed  that  we  were  their  "  friends ;  " 
and  although  many  of  them  did  not  clearly  comprehend  why 
we  had  come,  or  what  was  the  origin  of  the  warm  attach- 
ment between  us,  they  were  too  lazy  and  too  indififerent  to 
trouble  their  heads  about  the  matter.  They  were  satisfied 
that  there  would  be  a  "shindy"  somewhere,  and  some- 
body's bones  would  get  broken,  —  and  even  that  much  was 
a  pleasant  and  reassuring  consideration;  while  others  of 
keener  mould  revelled  in  plans  of  private  vengeance  against 
this  landlord  or  that  agent,  small  debts  of  hatred  to  be  paid 
off  in  the  day  of  general  reckoning. 

From  the  first  moment  nothing  could  exceed  the  tone  of 
fraternal  feeling  between  our  soldiers  and  the  people.  With- 
out any  means  of  communicating  their  thoughts  by  speech, 
they  seemed  to  acquire  an  instinctive  knowledge  of  each 
other  in  an  instant.  If  the  peasant  was  poor,  there  was  no 
limit  to  his  liberality  in  the  little  he  had.  He  dug  up  his 
half -ripe  potatoes,  he  unroofed  his  cabin  to  furnish  straw  for 
litter,  he  gave  up  his  only  beast,  and  was  ready  to  kill  his 
cow,  if  asked,  to  welcome  us.  Much  of  this  was  from  the 
native,  warm,  and  impulsive  generosity  of  their  nature ;  and 
much,  doubtless,  had  its  origin  in  the  bright  hopes  of  future 
recompense  inspu-ed  by  the  eloquent  appeals  of  Neal  Kerri- 
gan, who,  mounted  on  an  old  gray  mare,  rode  about  on 
every  side,  addressing  the  people  in  Irish,  and  calling 
upon  them  to  give  all  aid  and  assistance  to  "  the  expedition." 

The  difficulty  of  the  landing  was  much  increased  by  the 
small  space  of  level  ground  which  intervened  between  the 
cliffs  and  the  sea,  and  of  which  now  the  thickening  crowd 
filled  every  spot.  This  and  the  miserable  means  of  convey- 
ance for  our  baggage  delayed  us  greatly  ;  so  that,  with  a  com- 
paratively small  force,  it  was  late  in  the  afternoon  before  we 
had  all  reached  the  shore. 

We  had  none  of  us  eaten  since  morning,  and  were  not 
sorry,  as  we  crowned  the  heights,  to  hear  the  drums  beat  for 
"cooking."  In  an  inconceivably  short  time  fires  blazed 
along  the  hills,  around  which  in  motley  groups  stood 
soldiers  and  peasantry  mingled  together,  while  the  work  of 
cooking  and  eating  went  briskly  on,  amid  hearty  laughter 
and  all  the  merriment  that  mutual  mistakes  and  misconcep- 


202  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

tions  occasioned.  It  was  a  new  thing  for  French  soldiers  to 
bivouac  in  a  friendly  country,  and  find  themselves  the  wel- 
come guests  of  a  foreign  people ;  and  certainly  the  honors 
of  hospitality,  however  limited  the  means,  could  not  have 
been  performed  with  more  of  courtesy  or  good-will.  Paddy 
gave  his  "  all,"  with  a  generosity  that  might  have  shamed 
many  a  richer  donor. 

While  the  events  I  have  mentioned  were  going  forward, 
and  a  considerable  crowd  of  fishermen  and  peasants  had 
gathered  about  us,  still  it  was  remarkable  that,  except  imme- 
diately on  the  coast  itself,  no  suspicion  of  our  arrival  had 
gained  currency,  and  even  the  country  people  who  lived  a 
mile  from  the  shore  were  ignorant  of  who  we  were.  The 
few  who  from  distant  heights  and  headlands  had  seen  the 
ships  mistook  them  for  English ;  and  as  all  those  who  were 
out  with  fish  or  vegetables  to  sell  were  detained  by  the  frig- 
ates, any  direct  information  about  us  was  impossible.  So  far, 
therefore,  all  might  be  said  to  have  gone  most  favorably 
with  us.  We  had  safely  escaped  the  often-menaced  dangers 
of  the  channel  fleet ;  we  had  gained  a  secure  and  well  shel- 
tered harbor ;  and  we  had  landed  our  force  not  only  with- 
out opposition,  but  in  perfect  secrecy.  There  were,  I  will 
not  deny,  certain  little  counterbalancing  circumstances  on 
the  other  side  of  the  account  not  exactty  so  satisfactory. 
The  patriot  forces  upon  which  we  had  calculated  had  no 
existence.  There  were  neither  money,  nor  stores,  nor  means 
of  conveyance  to  be  had ;  even  accurate  information  as  to 
the  strength  and  position  of  the  English  was  unattainable ; 
and  as  to  generals  and  leaders,  the  effective  staff  had  but  a 
most  sorry  representative  in  the  person  of  Neal  Kerrigan. 
This  man's  influence  over  our  general  increased  with  every 
hour,  and  one  of  the  first  orders  issued  after  our  landing 
contained  his  appointment  as  an  extra  aide-de-camp  on 
General  Humbert's  staff. 

In  one  capacity  Neal  was  most  useful.  All  the  available 
sources  of  pillage  for  a  wide  circuit  of  country  he  knew  by 
heart ;  and  it  was  plain,  from  the  accurate  character  of  his 
information,  varying,  as  it  did,  from  the  chattels  of  the  rich 
landed  proprietor  to  the  cocks  and  hens  of  the  cottier,  that 
he  had  taken    great   pains  to   master  his  subject.     At    his 


KILLALA.  203 

suggestion  it  was  decided  that  we  should  march  that  evening 
on  Killala,  where  little  or  more  liliely  no  resistance  would  be 
met  with,  and  General  Humbert  should  take  up  his  quarters 
in  the  "Castle,"  as  the  palace  of  the  bishop  was  styled. 
There,  he  said,  we  should  not  only  find  ample  accommodation 
for  the  staff,  but  good  stabling,  well  filled,  and  plenty  of 
forage,  while  the  bishop  himself  might  be  a  most  useful 
hostage  to  have  in  our  keeping.  From  thence,  too,  as  a 
place  of  some  note,  general  orders  and  proclamations  would 
issue,  with  a  kind  of  notoriety  and  importance  necessary  at 
the  outset  of  an  undertaking  like  ours ;  and  truly  never  was 
an  expedition  more  loaded  with  this  species  of  missive  than 
ours,  —  whole  cart-loads  of  printed  papers,  decrees,  placards, 
and  such  like,  followed  us.  If  our  object  had  been  to  drive 
out  the  English  by  big  type  and  a  flaming  letter-press,  we 
could  not  have  gone  more  vigorously  to  work.  Fifty  thou- 
sand broad-sheet  announcements  of  Irish  independence  were 
backed  by  as  many  proud  declarations  of  victor}^  some  dated 
from  Limerick,  Cashel,  or  Dublin  itself. 

Here,  a  great  placard  gave  the  details  of  the  new  Pro- 
vincial Government  of  Western  Ireland,  with  the  name  of 
the  Prefect  a  blank ;  there  was  another  containing  the  police 
regulations  for  the  arrondissements  of  Connaught,  et  ses 
de]}endances.  Every  imaginable  step  of  conquest  and  occu- 
pation was  anticipated  and  provided  for  in  these  wise  and 
considerate  protocols,  from  the  "  enthusiastic  welcome  of  the 
French  on  the  western  coast,"  to  the  hour  of  "General 
Humbert's  triumphal  entry  into  Dublin !  "  Nor  was  it  prose 
alone,  but  even  poetry  did  service  in  our  cause.  Songs,  not, 
I  own,  conspicuous  for  any  great  metrical  beauty,  commem- 
orated our  battles  and  our  bravery ;  so  that  we  entered  upon 
the  campaign  as  deeply  pledged  to  victory  as  any  force  I 
ever  heard  or  read  of  in  history. 

Neal,  who  was,  I  believe,  originally  a  schoolmaster,  had 
great  confidence  in  this  arsenal  of  "black  and  white,"  and 
soon  persuaded  General  Humbert  that  a  bold  face  and  a 
loud  tongue  would  do  more  in  Ireland  than  in  any  country 
under  heaven ;  and  indeed,  if  his  own  career  might  be  called 
a  success,  the  theory  deserved  some  consideration.  A  great 
part  of  our  afternoon  was  then  spent  in  distributing  these 


204  '  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

documents  to  the  people,  —  not  one  in  a  hundred  of  whom 
could  read,  but  who  treasured  the  placards  with  a  reverence 
nothing  diminished  by  then-  ignorance.  Emissaries,  too, 
were  appointed  to  post  them  up  in  conspicuous  places 
through  the  country,  on  the  doors  of  the  chapels,  at  the 
smiths'  forges,  at  cross-roads,  everywhere,  in  short,  where 
they  might  attract  notice.  Th&  most  important  and 
business-like  of  all  these,  however,  was  one  headed  "Arms! 
Arms  !  "  and  which  went  on  to  say  that  no  man  who  wished 
to  lift  his  hand  for  old  Ireland  need  do  so  without  a  weapon ; 
and  that  a  general  distribution  of  guns,  swords,  and  bayo- 
nets would  take  place  at  noon  the  following  day  at  the 
Palace  of  Killala. 

Serasiu,  and,  I  believe,  Madgett,  were  strongly  opposed 
to  this  indiscriminate  arming  of  the  people ;  but  Neal's 
counsels  were  now  in  the  ascendant,  and  Humbert  gave  an 
implicit  confidence  to  all  he  suggested. 

It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  the  word  to  march 
was  given,  and  our  gallant  little  force  began  its  advance 
movement.  Still  attached  to  Colonel  Charost's  staff,  and 
being,  as  chasseurs,  in  the  advance,  I  had  a  good  opportu- 
nity of  seeing  the  line  of  march  from  an  eminence  about  half 
a  mile  in  front.  Grander  and  more  imposing  displays  I 
have  indeed  often  witnessed.  As  a  great  military  spectacle 
it  could  not,  of  course,  be  compared  with  those  mighty 
armies  I  had  seen  deploying  through  the  defiles  of  the  Black 
Forest,  or  spreading  like  a  sea  over  the  wide  plain  of  Ger- 
many ;  but  in  purely  picturesque  effect,  this  scene  surpassed 
all  I  had  ever  beheld  at  the  time,  nor  do  I  think  that  in 
after-life  I  can  recall  one  more  striking. 

The  winding  road  which  led  over  hill  and  valley,  now  dis- 
appearing, now  emerging,  with  the  undulations  of  the  soil, 
was  covered  by  troops  marching  in  a  firm,  compact  order,  — 
the  grenadiers  in  front,  after  which  came  the  artillery,  and 
then  the  regiments  of  the  line.  Watching  the  dark  column, 
occasionally  saluting  it  as  it  went  with  a  cheer,  stood  thou- 
sands of  country  people  on  every  hill-top  and  eminence,  while 
far  away  in  the  distance  the  frigates  lay  at  anchor  in  the  bay, 
the  guns  at  inter^^als  thundering  out  a  solemn  boom  of 
welcome  and  encourasiement  to  their  comrades. 


KILLALA.  205 

There  was  something  so  heroic  in  the  notion  of  that  little 
baud  of  warriors  throwing  themselves  fearlessly  into  a 
strange  land,  to  contest  its  claim  for  liberty  with  one  of  the 
most  powerful  nations  of  the  world ;  there  was  a  character 
of  daring  intrepidity  in  this  bold  advance,  they  knew  not 
whither,  nor  against  what  force, — that  gave  the  whole  an 
air  of  glorious  chivalry. 

I  must  own  that  distance  lent  its  wonted  illusion  to  the 
scene,  and  proximity,  like  its  twin-brother  familiarity,  de- 
stroyed much  of  the  prestige  my  fancy  had  conjured  up. 
The  line  of  march,  so  imposing  when  seen  from  afar,  was 
neither  regular  nor  well  kept.  The  peasantry  were  permitted 
to  mingle  with  the  troops ;  ponies,  mules,  and  asses,  loaded 
with  camp-kettles  and  cooking-vessels,  were  to  be  met  with 
everywhere.  The  baggage-wagons  were  crowded  with  offi- 
cers and  sous-officiers^  who,  disappointed  in  obtaining  horses, 
were  too  indolent  to  walk.  Even  the  gun-carriages,  and  the 
guns  themselves,  were  similarly  loaded ;  while  at  the  head  of 
the  infantry  column,  in  an  old  rickety  gig,  the  ancient  mail 
conveyance  between  Ballina  and  the  coast,  came  General 
Humbert,  —  Neal  Kerrigan  capering  at  his  side  on  the  old 
gray,  whose  flanks  were  now  tastefully  covered  by  the  tricolor 
ensign  of  one  of  the  boats  as  a  saddle-cloth. 

This  nearer  and  less  enchanting  prospect  of  my  gallant 
comrades  I  was  enabled  to  obtain  on  being  despatched  to 
the  rear  by  Colonel  Charost,  to  say  that  we  were  now 
within  less  than  a  mile  of  the  town  of  Killala,  its  venerable 
steeple  and  the  tall  chimneys  of  the  palace  being  easily  seen 
above  the  low  hills  in  front.  Neal  Kerrigan  passed  me  as  I 
rode  back  with  my  message,  galloping  to  the  front  with  all 
the  speed  he  could  muster ;  but  while  I  was  talking  to  the 
general  he  came  back  to  say  that  the  beating  of  drums  could 
be  heard  from  the  town,  and  that  by  the  rapid  movements 
here  and  there  of  people  it  was  evident  the  defence  was  be- 
ing prepared.  There  was  a  look-out,  too,  from  the  steeple, 
that  showed  our  approach  was  already  known.  The  general 
was  not  slow  in  adopting  his  measures,  and  the  word  was 
given  for  quick  march,  the  artillery  to  deploy  right  and  left 
of  the  road,  two  companies  of  grenadiers  forming  on  the 
flanks.     "  As  for  you,  sir,"  said  Humbert  to  me,  ^'  take  that 


206  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

horse,"  pointing  to  a  mountain  pony,  fastened  behind  the 
gig,  "  ride  forward  to  the  town,  and  make  a  reconnaissance. 
You  are  to  report  to  me,"  cried  he,  as  I  rode  away,  and  was 
soon  out  of  hearing. 

Quitting  the  road,  I  took  a  foot-track  across  the  fields, 
which  the  pony  seemed  to  know  well,  and  after  a  sharp 
canter  reached  a  small,  poor  suburb  of  the  town,  if  a  few 
straggling  wretched  cabins  can  deserve  the  name.  A  group 
of  countrymen  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  about  fifty 
yards  in  front  of  me ;  and  while  I  was  deliberating  whether 
to  advance  or  reth'e,  a  joyous  cry  of  "Hurra  for  the 
French !  "  decided  me,  and  I  touched  my  cap  in  salute  and 
rode  forward. 

Other  groups  saluted  me  with  a  similar  cheer  as  I  went 
on ;  and  now  windows  were  flung  open,  and  glad  cries  and 
shouts  of  welcome  rang  out  from  every  side.  These  signs 
were  too  encouraging  to  turn  my  back  upon,  so  I  dashed 
forward  through  a  narrow  street  in  front,  and  soon  found 
myself  in  a  kind  of  square  or  Place,  the  doors  and  windows 
of  which  were  all  closed,  and  not  a  human  being  to  be  seen 
anywhere.  As  I  hesitated  what  next  to  do,  I  saw  a  soldier 
in  a  red  coat  rapidly  turn  the  corner.  ' '  What  do  you  want 
here,  j'ou  spy?"  he  cried  out  in  a  loud  voice,  and  at  the 
same  instant  his  bullet  rang  past  my  ear  with  a  whistle.  I 
drove  in  the  spurs  at  once,  and  just  as  he  had  gained  a 
doorway,  I  clove  his  head  open  with  my  sabre ;  he  fell  dead 
on  the  spot  before  me.  Wheeling  my  horse  round,  I  now 
rode  back  as  I  had  come,  at  full  speed,  the  same  welcome 
cries  accompanying  me  as  before. 

Short  as  had  been  my  absence,  it  was  suflScient  to  have 
brought  the  advanced  guard  close  up  with  the  town ;  and 
just  as  I  emerged  from  the  little  suburb,  a  quick,  sharp 
firing  drew  my  attention  towards  the  left  of  the  wall,  and 
there  I  saw  om-  fellows  advancing  at  a  trot,  while  about 
twenty  red-coats  were  in  full  flight  before  them,  the  wild 
cries  of  the  country  people  following  them  as  they  went. 

I  had  but  time  to  see  thus  much,  and  to  remark  that  two 
or  three  English  prisoners  were  taken,  when  the  general 
came  up.  He  had  now  abandoned  the  gig,  and  was  mounted 
on  a  large,  powerful  black  horse,  which  I  afterwards  learned 


KILLALA.  207 

was  one  of  the  bishop's.  My  tidings  were  soon  told,  and, 
indeed,  but  indifferently  attended  to,  for  it  was  evident 
enough  that  the  place  was  our  own. 

"  This  way,  General  —  follow  me  !  "  cried  Kerrigan.  "  If 
the  light  companies  will  take  the  road  down  to  the  Acres, 
they  '11  catch  the  yeomen  as  they  retreat  by  that  way,  and  we 
have  the  town  our  own." 

The  counsel  was  speedily  adopted ;  and  although  a  drop- 
ping fire  here  and  there  showed  that  some  slight  resistance 
was  still  being  made,  it  was  plain  enough  that  all  real 
opposition  was  impossible. 

' '  Forward  !  "  was  now  the  word  ;  and  the  chasseurs  with 
their  muskets  "in  sling"  advanced  at  a  trot  up  the  main 
street.  At  a  little  distance  the  grenadiers  followed,  and 
debouching  into  the  square,  were  received  by  an  ill-directed 
volley  from  a  few  of  the  militia,  who  took  to  their  heels  after 
they  fired.  Three  or  four  red-coats  were  killed ;  but  the 
remainder  made  their  escape  through  the  churchyard,  and 
gaining  the  open  country,  scattered  and  fled  as  best  they 
could. 

Humbert,  who  had  seen  war  on  a  very  different  scale, 
could  not  help  laughing  at  the  absurdity  of  the  skirmish,  and 
was  greatly  amused  with  the  want  of  all  discipline  and 
"accord"  exhibited  by  the  English  troops. 

"  I  foresee,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  jocularly,  "  that  we  may 
have  abundance  of  success,  but  gain  very  little  glory,  in  the 
same  campaign.  Now  for  a  blessing  upon  our  labors ; 
where  shall  we  find  our  friend  the  bishop?" 

"  This  way.  General,"  cried  Neal,  leading  down  a  narrow 
street,  at  the  end  of  which  stood  a  high  wall,  with  an  iron 
gate.  This  was  locked,  and  some  efforts  at  barricading  it 
showed  the  intention  of  a  defence ;  but  a  few  strokes  of  a 
pioneer's  hammer  smashed  the  lock,  and  we  entered  a  kind 
of  pleasure-ground,  neatly  and  trimly  kept.  We  had  not 
advanced  many  paces  when  the  bishop,  followed  by  a  great 
number  of  his  clergy,  —  for  it  happened  to  be  the  period  of 
his  annual  visitation,  —  came  forward  to  meet  us. 

Humbert  dismounted,  and  removing  his  chapeau,  saluted 
the  dignitary  with  a  most  finished  courtesy.  I  could  see, 
too,  by  his  gesture,  that  he  presented  General  Serasin,  the 


208  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

second  in  command ;  and,  in  fact,  all  his  motions  were  those 
of  a  well-bred  guest  at  the  moment  of  being  received  by  his 
host.  Nor  was  the  bishop,  on  his  side,  wanting  either  iu 
ease  or  dignity ;  his  manner,  not  without  the  appearance  of 
deep  sorrow,  was  yet  that  of  a  polished  gentleman  doing  the 
honors  of  his  house  to  a  number  of  strangers. 

As  I  drew  nearer,  I  could  hear  that  the  bishop  spoke 
French  fluently,  but  with  a  strong  foreign  accent.  This 
facility  however  enabled  him  to  converse  with  ease  on  every 
subject,  and  to  hold  intercourse  directly  with  our  general,  a 
matter  of  no  small  moment  to  either  party.  It  is  probable 
that  the  other  clergy  did  not  possess  this  gift,  for  assuredly 
their  manner  towards  us  inferiors  of  the  staff  was  neither 
gracious  nor  conciliating ;  and  as  for  myself,  the  few  efforts 
I  made  to  express  in  English  my  admiration  for  the  coast 
scenery,  or  the  picturesque  beauty  of  the  neighborhood,  were 
met  in  any  rather  than  a  spirit  of  politeness. 

The  generals  accompanied  the  bishop  into  the  castle,  leav- 
ing myself  and  three  or  four  others  on  the  outside.  Colonel 
Charost  soon  made  his  appearance,  and  a  guard  was 
stationed  at  the  entrance  gate,  with  a  strong  picket  in  the 
garden.  Two  sentries  were  placed  at  the  hall-door,  and  the 
words  "  Quartier-General"  written  up  over  the  portico.  A 
small  garden  pavilion  was  appropriated  to  the  colonel's  use, 
and  made  the  office  of  the  adjutant-general ;  and  in  less  than 
half  an  hour  after  our  arrival,  eight  sous-officiers  were  hard 
at  work  under  the  trees,  writing  away  at  billets,  contribution 
orders,  and  forage  rations,  —  while  I,  from  my  supposed 
fluency  in  English,  was  engaged  in  carrying  messages  to  and 
from  the  staff  to  the  various  shopkeepers  and  tradesmen  of 
the  town,  numbers  of  whom  now  flocked  around  us  with 
expressions  of  welcome  and   rejoicing. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

OUR   ALLIES. 

I  HAVE  spent  pleasanter,  but  I  greatly  doubt  if  I  ever  knew 
busier,  days  than  those  I  passed  at  the  Bishop's  Palace  at 
Killala ;  and  now,  as  I  look  back  upon  the  event,  I  cannot 
help  wondering  that  we  could  seriously  have  played  out  a 
farce  so  full  of  absurdity  and  nonsense.  There  was  a  gross 
mockery  of  all  the  usages  of  war,  which,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  serious  interests  at  stake,  would  have  been  highly  laugh- 
able and  amusing. 

Whether  it  was  the  important  functions  of  civil  govern- 
ment, the  details  of  police  regulation,  the  imposition  of  con- 
tributions, the  appointment  of  officers,  or  the  arming  of  the 
volunteers,  —  all  was  done  with  a  pretentious  affectation  of 
order  that  was  extremely  ludicrous.  The  very  institutions 
which  were  laughingly  agreed  at  over-night,  as  the  wine  went 
briskly  round,  were  solemnly  ratified  in  the  morning,  and, 
still  more  strange,  apparently  believed  in  by  those  whose 
ingenuity  devised  them;  and  thus  the  "Irish  Directory,"  as 
we  styled  the  imaginary  government,  the  National  Treasury, 
the  Pension  fund,  were  talked  of  with  all  the  seriousness  of 
facts.  As  to  the  Commissariat,  to  which  I  was  for  the  time 
attached,  we  never  ceased  writing  receipts  and  acknowledg- 
ments for  stores  and  munitions  of  war,  all  of  which  were  to 
be  honorably  acquitted  by  the  Treasury  of  the  Irish  Republic. 

No  people  could  have  better  fallen  in  with  the  humor 
of  this  delusion  than  the  Irish.  They  seemed  to  believe 
everything ;  and  yet  there  was  a  reckless,  headlong  indiffer- 
ence about  them  which  appeared  to  say  that  they  were 
equally  prepared  for  any  turn  fortune  might  take,  and  if  the 
worst  should  happen  they  would  never  reproach  us  for  having 
misled  them.     The  real  truth  was  —  but  we  only  learned  it 

14 


210  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

too  late  —  all  those  who  joined  us  were  utterly  indifferent  to 
the  great  cause  of  Irish  independence ;  their  thoughts  never 
rose  above  a  row  and  a  pillage.  It  was  to  be  a  season  of 
sack,  plunder,  and  outrage,  but  nothing  more.  That  such 
were  the  general  sentiments  of  the  volunteers  I  believe 
none  will  dispute.  We  however,  in  our  ignorance  of  the 
people  and  their  language,  interpreted  all  the  harum-scarum 
wildness  Ave  saw  as  the  buoyant  temperament  of  a  high- 
spirited  nation,  who,  after  centuries  of  degradation  and  ill- 
usage,  saw  the  dawning  of  liberty  at  last. 

Had  we  possessed  any  real  knowledge  of  the  country,  we 
should  at  once  have  seen  that  of  those  who  joined  us  none 
were  men  of  any  influence  or  station.  If  now  and  then  a 
man  of  any  name  strayed  into  the  camp,  he  was  sure  to  be 
one  whose  misconduct  or  bad  character  had  driven  him  from 
associating  with  his  equals ;  and,  even  of  the  peasantry,  our 
followers  were  of  the  very  lowest  order.  Whether  General 
Humbert  was  the  first  to  notice  the  fact  I  know  not ;  but 
Charost,  I  am  certain,  remarked  it,  and  even  thus  early 
predicted  the  utter  failure  of   the  expedition. 

I  must  confess  the  "Volunteers"  were  the  least  impos- 
ing of  allies.  I  think  I  have  the  whole  scene  before  my 
eyes  this  moment,  as  I  saw  it  each  morning  in  the  Palace 
garden. 

The  enclosure,  which,  more  orchard  than  garden,  occupied 
a  space  of  a  couple  of  acres,  was  the  headquarters  of  Colonel 
Charost ;  and  here,  in  a  pavilion  formerly  dedicated  to  hoes, 
rakes,  rolling-stones,  and  garden-tools,  we  were  now  estab- 
lished to  the  number  of  fourteen.  As  the  space  beneath  the 
roof  was  barely  sufficient  for  the  colonel's  personal  use,  the 
officers  of  his  staff  occupied  convenient  spots  in  the  vicinity. 
My  station  was  under  a  large  damson- tree,  the  fruit  of  which 
afforded  me  more  than  once  the  only  meal  I  tasted  from  early 
morning  till  late  at  night,  —  not,  I  must  say,  from  any  lack 
of  provisions,  for  the  Palace  abounded  with  every  requisite 
of  the  table,  but  that,  such  was  the  pressure  of  business,  we 
were  not  able  to  leave  off  work  even  for  half  an  hour  during 
the  day. 

A  subaltern's  guard  of  grenadiers,  divided  into  small 
parties,  did  duty  in  the  garden ;   and  it  was  striking  to  mark 


OUR  ALLIES.  211 

the  contrast  between  these  bronzed  and  war-worn  figures  and 
the  reckless  tatterdemalion  host  around  us.  Never  was  seen 
such  a  scare-crow  set,  —  wild-looking,  ragged  wretches, 
their  long,  lank  hair  hanging  down  their  necks  and  shoulders, 
usually  bare-footed,  and  with  every  sign  of  stan'ation  in 
their  features.  They  stood  in  groups  and  knots,  gesticulat- 
ing, screaming,  hurraing,  and  singing  in  all  the  exuberance 
of  a  joy  that  caught  some,  at  least,  of  its  inspiration  from 
whiskey. 

It  was  utterly  vain  to  attempt  to  keep  order  amongst 
them ;  even  the  effort  to  make  them  defile  singly  through  the 
gate  into  the  garden  was  soon  found  impracticable,  without 
the  employment  of  a  degree  of  force  that  our  adviser, 
Kerrigan,  pronounced  would  be  injudicious.  Not  only  the 
men  made  thek  way  in,  but  great  numbers  of  women,  and 
even  children  also  ;  and  there  they  were,  seated  around  fires, 
roasting  their  potatoes  in  this  bivouac  fashion,  as  though 
they  had  deserted  hearth  and  home  to  follow  us. 

Such  was  the  avidity  to  get  arms  —  of  which  the  distribu- 
tion was  announced  to  take  place  here  —  that  several  had 
scaled  the  wall  in  their  impatience ;  and  as  they  were  more 
or  less  in  drink,  some  disastrous  accidents  were  momen- 
tarily occurring,  adding  the  cries  and  exclamations  of  suffer- 
ing to  the  ruder  chorus  of  joy  and  revelry  that  went  on 
unceasingly. 

The  impression,  —  we  soon  saw  how  absurd  it  was,  —  the 
impression  that  we  should  do  nothing  that  might  hurt  the 
national  sensibilities,  but  concede  all  to  the  exuberant  ardor 
of  a  bold  people  eager  to  be  led  against  their  enemies, 
induced  us  to  submit  to  every  imaginable  breach  of  order  and 
discipline. 

"  In  a  day  or  two  they'll  be  like  your  own  men;  you'll 
not  know  them  from  a  battalion  of  the  line.  Those  fellows 
will  be  like  a  wall  under  fire." 

Such  and  such  like  were  the  assurances  we  were  listening 
to  all  day,  and  it  would  have  been  like  treason  to  the  cause 
to  have  refused  them  credence. 

Perhaps  I  might  have  been  longer  a  believer  in  this 
theory,  had  I  not  perceived  signs  of  a  deceptive  character 
in  these  our  worthy  allies ;  many  who  to  our  faces  wore 
nothing  but  looks  of  gratitude  and  delight,  no  sooner  mixed 


212  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

with  their  fellows  than  their  downcast  faces  and  dogged 
expression  betraj'ed  some  inward  sense  of  disappointment. 

One  very  general  source'  of  dissatisfaction  arose  from  the 
discovery  that  we  were  not  prepared  to  pay  our  allies  !  We 
had  simply  come  to  arm  and  lead  them,  to  shed  our  own 
blood,  and  pledge  our  fortunes  in  their  cause ;  but  we  cer- 
tainly had  brought  no  military  chest  to  bribe  their  patriotism, 
nor  stimulate  their  nationality,  —  and  this  I  soon  saw  was  a 
grievous  disappointment. 

In  vii'tue  of  this  shameful  omission  on  our  part,  they  deemed 
the  only  resource  was  to  be  made  officers  ;  and  thus  crowds 
of  uneducated,  semi-civilized  vagabonds  were  every  hour 
assailing  us  with  their  claims  to  the  epaulette.  Of  the  whole 
number  of  these,  I  remember  but  three  who  had  ever  serv^ed 
at  all ;  two  were  notorious  drunkards,  and  the  third  a  con- 
firmed madman,  from  a  scalp  wound  he  had  received  when 
fighting  against  the  Turks.  Many,  however,  boasted  high- 
sounding  names,  and  were,  at  least  so  Kerrigan  said,  men  of 
the  first  families  in  the  land. 

Our  geueral-in-chief  saw  little  of  them  while  at  Killala, 
his  principal  intercourse  being  with  the  bishop  and  his  family ; 
but  Colonel  Charost  soon  learned  to  read  their  true  character, 
and  from  that  moment  conceived  the  most  disastrous  issue 
to  our  plans.  The  most  trustworthy  of  them  was  a  certain 
O'Donnell,  who,  although  not  a  soldier,  was  remarked  to 
possess  a  greater  influence  over  the  rabble  volunteers  than 
any  of  the  others.  He  was  a  young  man  of  the  half-squire 
class,  an  ardent  and  sincere  patriot  after  his  fashion ;  but 
that  fashion,  it  must  be  owned,  rather  partook  of  the  charac- 
ter of  class-hatred  and  religious  animosit}"  than  the  features 
of  a  great  struggle  for  national  independence.  He  took  a 
very  low  estimate  of  the  fighting  qualities  of  his  countrymen, 
and  made  no  secret  of  declaring  it. 

"  You  would  be  better  without  them  altogether,"  said  he 
one  day  to  Charost;  "but  if  you  must  have  allies,  draw 
them  up  in  line,  select  one  third  of  the  best,  and  arm  them." 

"  And  the  rest?  "  asked  Charost. 

"  Shoot  them,"  was  the  answer. 

This  conversation  is  on  record,  —  indeed,  I  believe  there 
is  yet  one  witness  living  to  corroborate  it. 

I  have  said  that  we  were  verv  hard  worked ;  but  I  must 


OUR   ALLIES.  213 

fain  acknowledge  that  the  real  amount  of  business  done  was 
very  insignificant,  so  many  were  the  mistakes,  misconceptions, 
and  interruptions,  not  to  speak  of  the  time  lost  by  that 
system  of  conciliation  of  which  I  have  already  made  mention. 
In  our  distribution  of  arms  there  was  as  little  selection  prac- 
tised as  possible.  The  process  was  a  brief  one,  but  it  might 
have  been  briefer. 

Thomas  Colooney,  of  Banmayroo,  was  called,  and  not 
usually  being  present,  the  name  would  be  passed  on  from 
post  to  post,  till  it  swelled  into  a  general  shout  of  Colooney. 

"  Tom  Colooney,  you  're  wanted  !  Tom,  run  for  it,  man, 
there  's  a  price  bid  for  you  !  Here  's  Mickey,  his  brother ; 
maybe  he  '11  do  as  well." 

And  so  on,  —  all  this  accompanied  by  shouts  of  laughter, 
and  a  running  fire  of  jokes,  which,  being  in  the  vernacular, 
was  lost  to  us. 

At  last  the  real  Colooney  was  found,  maybe  eating  his 
dinner  of  potatoes,  maybe  discussing  his  poteen  with  a  friend ; 
sometimes  engaged  in  the  domestic  duties  of  washing  his 
shirt  or  his  small-clothes,  fitting  a  new  crown  to  his  hat,  or 
a  sole  to  his  brogues.  Whatever  his  occupation,  he  was  urged 
forward  by  his  friends  and  the  public  with  many  a  push, 
drive,  and  even  a  kick,  into  our  presence,  where,  from  the 
turmoil,  uproar,  and  confusion,  he  appeared  to  have  fought 
his  way  by  main  force,  —  and  very  often,  indeed,  this  was 
literally  the  fact,  as  his  bleeding  nose,  torn  coat,  and  bare 
head  attested. 

''  Thomas  Colooney,  are  you  the  man?  "  asked  one  of  our 
Irish  officers  of  the  staff. 

"  Yis,  yer  honor,  I  'm  that  same  !  " 

"  You've  come  here,  Colooney,  to  offer  yourself  as  a  vol- 
unteer in  the  cause  of  your  country  ?  " 

Here  a  yell  of  "  Ireland  forever!  "  was  always  raised  by 
the  bystanders,  which  drowned  the  reply  in  its  enthusiasm, 
and  the  examination  went  on  :  — 

"You'll  be  true  and  faithful  to  that  cause  till  you  secure 
for  your  country  the  freedom  of  America  and  the  happiness 
of  France  ?     Kiss  the  cross.     Are  you  used  to  firearms  ?  " 

"  Is  n't  he?  Maybe  not !  I  '11  be  bound  he  knows  a  mus- 
ket from  a  mealy  pratie !  " 

Such  and  such  like  were  the  comments  that  rang  on  all 


214  MAURICE    TIERNAY. 

sides,  so  that  the  modest  "  Yis,  sir,"  of  the  patriot  was 
completely  lost. 

"  Load  that  gun,  Tom,"  said  the  officer. 

Here  Colooney,  deeming  that  so  simple  a  request  must 
necessarily  be  only  a  cover  for  something  underhand,  —  a 
little  clever  surprise  or  so,  —  takes  up  the  piece  in  a  very 
gingerly  manner,  and  examines  it  all  round,  noticing  that 
there  is  nothing,  so  far  as  he  can  discover,  unusual  or  un- 
common about  it. 

"  Load  that  gun,  I  say  !  " 

Sharper  and  more  angrily  is  the  command  given  this  time. 

"Yis,  sii',  immadiately." 

And  now  Tom  tries  the  barrel  with  the  ramrod,  lest  there 
should  be  already  a  charge  there,  —  a  piece  of  forethought 
that  is  sure  to  be  loudly  applauded  by  the  public,  not  the  less 
so  because  the  impatience  of  the  French  officers  is  making 
itself  manifest  in  various  ways. 

At  length  he  rams  down  the  cartridge,  and  returns  the 
rami'od ;  which  piece  of  adroitness,  if  done  with  a  certain 
ail'  of  display  and  flourish,  is  unfailingly  saluted  by  another 
cheer.  He  now  primes  and  cocks  the  piece,  and  assumes  a 
look  of  what  he  believes  to  be  most  soldier-like  severity. 

As  he  stands  thus  for  scrutiny,  a  rather  lively  debate  gets 
up  as  to  whether  or  not  Tom  bit  off  the  end  of  the  cartridge 
before  he  rammed  it  down.  The  biters  and  anti-biters  being 
equally  divided,  the  discussion  waxes  strong.  The  French 
officers,  eagerly  asking  what  may  be  the  disputed  point, 
laugh  very  heartily  on  hearing  it. 

"  I'll  lay  ye  a  pint  of  sperits  she  won't  go  off,"  cries  one. 

"Done!  for  two  naggins,  if  he  pulls  strong,"  rejoins 
another. 

".Devil  fear  the  same  gun,"  cries  a  third;  "  she  shot  Mr. 
Sloan, at  fifty  paces,  and  killed  him  dead." 

"  'T  is  n't  the  same  gun ;  that 's  a  Frinch  one,  —  a  bran  new 


one 


"  She  isn't." 

"  She  is." 

"No,  she  isn't." 

"  Yes,  but  she  is." 

"What  is't  you  say?" 

"  Hould  your  prate  !  " 


OUR  ALLIES.  215 

"  Arrah,  teach  your  mother  to  feed  ducks !  " 

"  Silence  iu  the  ranks!  Keep  silence  there!  Attention, 
Colooney !  " 

"  Yis,  su\" 

"Fire!" 

"  What  at,  sir?  "  asks  Tom,  taking  an  amateur  glance  of 
the  company,  who  look  not  over  satisfied  at  his  scrutiny. 

"  Fire  in  the  aii'!  " 

Bang  goes  the  piece,  and  a  yell  follows  the  explosion,  while 
cries  of  "Well  done,  Tom!"  "  Begorra,  if  a  Protestant 
got  that !  "  and  so  on,  greet  the  performance. 

"Stand  by,  Colooney!  "  and  the  volunteer  falls  back  to 
make  way  for  another  and  similar  exhibition,  occasionally 
varied  by  the  humor  or  the  blunders  of  the  new  candidate. 

As  to  the  Treasury  orders,  as  we  somewhat  ludicrously 
styled  the  cheques  upon  our  imaginary  bank,  the  scenes 
they  led  to  were  still  more  absurd  and  complicated.  We 
paid  liberally,  that  is  to  say  in  promises,  for  everything ; 
and  oiu'  generosity  saved  us  a  good  deal  of  time,  for  it  was 
astonishing  how  little  the  owners  disputed  our  solvency  when 
the  price  was  left  to  themselves.  But  the  rations  were  in- 
deed the  most  difficult  matter  of  all,  —  it  being  impossible  to 
convince  our  allies  of  the  fact  that  the  compact  was  one  of 
trust,  and  the  ration  was  not  his  own  to  dispose  of  in  any 
manner  that  might  seem  fit. 

"  Sure,  if  I  don't  like  to  ate  it,  if  I  have  n't  an  appetite 
for  it,  if  I  'd  rather  have  a  pint  of  sperits  or  a  flannel  waist- 
coat or  a  pair  of  stockings  than  a  piece  of  mate,  what  harm 
is  that  to  any  one  ?  " 

This  process  of  reasoning  was  much  harder  of  answer  than 
is  usually  supposed ;  and  even  when  replied  to,  another  diffi- 
culty arose  in  its  place.  Unaccustomed  to  flesli  diet,  when 
they  tasted  they  could  not  refrain  from  it ;  and  the  whole 
week's  rations  of  beef,  amounting  to  eight  pounds,  were 
frequently  consumed  in  the  first  twenty-four  hours. 

Such  instances  of  gormandizing  were  by  no  means  unfre- 
quent,  and,  stranger  still,  in  no  one  case,  so  far  as  I  knew, 
followed  by  any  ill  consequences. 

The  leaders  were  still  more  difficult  to  manage  than  the 
people.  Without  military  knowledge  or  experience  of  any 
kind,  they  presumed  to  dictate  the  plan  of  a  campaign  to  old 


216  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

and  distinguished  officers  like  Humbert  and  Serasin,  and  when 
overruled  by  argument  or  ridicule,  invariably  fell  back  upon 
their  superior  knowledge  of  Ireland  and  her  people,  —  a 
defence  for  which,  of  course,  we  were  quite  unprepared  and 
unable  to  oppose   anything. 

From  these  and  similar  causes  it  may  well  be  believed 
that  our  labors  were  not  light,  and  yet  somehow,  with  all 
the  vexations  and  difficulties  around  us,  there  was  a  con- 
genial tone  of  levity,  an  easy  recklessness,  and  a  careless 
freedom  in  the  Irish  character  that  suited  us  well.  There 
was  but  one  single  point  whereupon  we  were  not  thoroughly 
together,  and  this  was  religion.  They  were  a  nation  of  most 
zealous  Catholics ;  and  as  for  us,  the  revolution  had  not  left 
the  vestige  of  a  belief  amongst  us. 

A  reconnaissance  in  Ballina,  meant  rather  to  discover  the 
strength  of  the  garrison  than  of  the  place  itself,  having  shown 
that  the  royal  forces  were  inconsiderable  in  number  and 
mostly  militia.  General  Humbert  moved  forward,  on  Sunday 
morning  the  26th,  with  nine  hundred  men  of  our  own  force, 
and  about  three  thousand  "volunteers,"  —  leaving  Colonel 
Charost  and  his  staff,  with  two  companies  of  foot,  at  Killala, 
to  protect  the  town,  and  organize  the  new  levies  as  they  were 
formed. 

We  saw  our  companions  defile  from  the  town  with  heavy 
hearts.  The  small  body  of  real  soldiers  seemed  even  smaller 
still  from  being  enveloped  by  that  mass  of  peasants  who 
accompanied  them,  and  who  marched  on  the  flanks  or  in  the 
rear  promiscuously,  without  discipline  or  order,  —  a  noisy, 
half-drunken  rabble,  firing  off  their  muskets  at  random,  and 
yelling  as  they  went,  in  savage  glee  and  exultation.  Our 
sole  comfort  was  in  the  belief  that  when  the  hour  of  combat 
did  arrive,  they  would  fight  to  the  very  last.  Such  were  the 
assurances  of  their  own  officers,  and  made  so  seriously  and 
confidently  that  we  never  thought  of  mistrusting  them. 

"  If  they  be  but  steady  under  fire,"  said  Charost,  "  a  month 
will  make  them  good  soldiers.  Ours  is  an  easy  drill,  and 
soon  learned  ;  but  I  own,"  he  added,  "  they  do  not  give  me 
this  impression." 

Such  was  the  reflection  of  one  who  watched  them  as  they 
went  past,  and  with  sorrow  we  saw  ourselves  concurring  in 
the  sentiment. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


THE    DAY    OF    "  CASTLEBAR. 


We  were  all  occupied  with  our  drill  at  daybreak  on  the 
morning  of  the  27th  of  August,  when  a  mounted  orderly 
arrived  at  full  gallop,  with  news  that  our  troops  were  in 
motion  for  Castlebar,  and  orders  for  us  immediately  to  march 
to  their  support,  leaving  only  one  subaltern  and  twenty  men 
in  the  Castle. 

The  worthy  bishop  was  thunderstruck  at  the  tidings.  It 
is  more  than  probable  that  he  never  entertained  any  grave 
fears  of  our  ultimate  success ;  still  he  saw  that  in  the 
struggle,  brief  as  it  might  be,  rapine,  murder,  and  pillage 
would  spread  over  the  country,  and  that  crime  of  every 
sort  would  be  certain  to  prevail  during  the  short  interval  of 
anarchy. 

As  our  drums  were  beating  the  "rally,"  he  entered  the 
garden,  and  with  hurried  steps  came  forward  to  where 
Colonel  Charost  was  standing  delivering  his  orders. 

"  Good  day,  Mgr.  I'Eveque,"  said  the  colonel,  removing 
his  hat,  and  bowing  low.  "You  see  us  in  a  moment  of 
haste.  The  campaign  has  opened,  and  we  are  about  to 
march." 

"Have  you  made  any  provision  for  the  garrison  of  this 
town,  colonel?  "  said  the  bishop,  in  terror.  "  Your  presence 
alone  here  restrained  the  population  hitherto.  If  you  leave 
us  —  " 

"We  shall  leave  you  a  strong  force  of  our  faithful  allies, 
sir,"  said  Charost;  "Irishmen  could  scarcely  desire  better 
defenders  than  their  countrymen." 

"You  forget,  colonel,  that  some  of  us  here  are  averse  to 
this  cause,  but  as  non-combatants  lay  claim  to  protection." 

"You  shall  have  it,  too,  Mgr.  I'Eveque;  we  leave  an 
officer  and  twenty  men." 


218  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

"An  officer  and  twenty  men!"  echoed  the  bishop  in 
dismay. 

"Quite  sufficient,  I  assure  you,"  said  Charost,  coldly; 
"and  if  a  hair  of  one  of  their  heads  be  injured  by  the 
populace,  trust  me,  sir,  that  we  shall  take  a  terrible 
vengeance." 

"  You  do  not  know  these  people  sir,  as  I  know  them,"  said 
the  bishop,  eagerly.  "The  same  hour  that  you  march  out, 
will  the  town  of  Killala  be  given  up  to  pillage.  As  for  your 
retributive  justice,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  not  feeling  any 
consolation  in  the  pledge,  for  certes  neither  I  nor  mine  will 
live  to  witness  it." 

As  the  bishop  was  speaking,  a  crowd  of  volunteers,  some  in 
uniform  and  all  armed,  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  place  of 
colloquy  ;  and  although  understanding  nothing  of  what  went 
forward  in  the  foreign  language,  seemed  to  watch  the  expres- 
sions of  the  speakers'  faces  with  a  most  keen  interest.  To 
look  at  the  countenances  of  these  fellows,  truly  one  would 
not  have  called  the  bishop's  fears  exaggerated ;  their  expres- 
sion was  that  of  demoniac  passion  and  hatred. 

"  Look,  sir,"  said  the  bishop,  turning  round,  and  facing 
the  mob,  "  look  at  the  men  to  whose  safeguard  you  propose 
to  leave  us  !  " 

Charost  made  no  reply ;  but  making  a  sign  for  the  bishop 
to  remain  where  he  was,  re-entered  the  pavilion  hastily.  I 
could  see  through  the  window  that  he  was  reading  his 
despatches  over  again,  and  evidently  taking  counsel  with 
himself  how  to  act.  The  determination  was  quickly  come 
to. 

"  Mgr.  I'Eveque,"  said  he,  laying  his  hand  on  the  bishop's 
arm,  "  I  find  that  my  orders  admit  of  a  choice  on  my  part. 
I  will  therefore  remain  with  you  myself,  and  keep  a  suffi- 
cient fprce  of  my  own  men.  It  is  not  impossible,  however, 
that  in  taking  this  step  I  may  be  perilling  my  own  safety. 
You  will,  therefore,  consent  that  one  of  your  sons  shall 
accompany  the  force  now  about  to  march,  as  a  hostage. 
This  is  not  an  unreasonable  request  on  my  part." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  said  the  bishop,  sadly.  "  When  do  they 
leave?" 

"  Within  half  an  hour,"  said  Charost. 


THE   DAY  OF   "CASTLEBAR."  219 

The  bishop,  bowing,  retraced  his  steps  through  the  garden 
back  to  the  house.  Oiu*  preparations  for  the  road  were  by 
this  time  far  advanced.  The  command  said,  *'  Light  march- 
ing order,  and  no  rations ;  "  so  that  we  foresaw  that  there 
was  sharp  work  before  us.  Our  men  —  part  of  the  twelfth 
demi-brigade,  and  a  half  company  of  grenadiers  —  were, 
indeed,  ready  on  the  instant ;  but  the  Irish  were  not  so 
easily  equipped.  Many  had  stra^'ed  into  the  town ;  some, 
early  as  it  was,  were  dead  drunk ;  and  not  a  few  had  mislaid 
their  arms  or  then*  ammunition,  secretly  preferring  the 
chance  of  a  foray  of  their  own  to  the  prospect  of  a  regular 
engagement  with  the  Royalist  troops. 

Our  force  was  still  a  considerable  one,  numbering  at  least 
fifteen  hundred  volunteers,  besides  about  eighty  of  our  men. 
By  seven  o'clock  we  were  under  march,  and  with  drums 
beating  defiled  from  the  narrow  sti'eets  of  Killala  into  the 
mountain  road  that  leads  to  Cloonagh,  it  being  our  object 
to  form  a  junction  with  the  main  body  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain. 

Two  roads  led  from  Ballina  to  Castlebar,  —  one  to  the  east- 
ward, the  other  to  the  west  of  Lough  Con.  The  former  was 
a  level  road,  easily  passable  by  wheel  carriages,  and  without 
any  obstacle  or  difficulty  whatever ;  the  other  took  a  straight 
direction  over  lofty  mountains,  and  in  one  spot  —  the  Pass  of 
Barnageeragh  —  traversed  a  narrow  detile  shut  in  between 
steep  cliffs,  where  a  small  force,  assisted  by  artillery,  could 
have  arrested  the  advance  of  a  great  army.  The  road  itself 
too  was  in  disrepair;  the  rains  of  autumn  had  torn  and 
fissured  it,  while  heavy  sandslips  and  fallen  rocks  in  many 
places  rendered  it  almost  impassable. 

The  Royalist  generals  had  reconnoitred  it  two  days  before, 
and  were  so  convinced  that  all  approach  in  this  direction  was 
out  of  the  question  that  a  small  picket  of  obsers^ation,  posted 
near  the  Pass  of  Barnageeragh,  was  withdrawn  as  useless, 
and  the  few  stockades  they  had  fixed  were  still  standing  as 
we  marched  through. 

General  Humbert  had  acquired  all  the  details  of  these 
separate  lines  of  attack,  and  at  once  decided  for  the  moun- 
tain road,  which  besides  the  advantage  of  a  surprise  was  in 
reality  four  miles  shorter. 


220  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

The  only  difficulty  was  the  transport  of  our  artillery ;  but 
as  we  merely  carried  those  light  field-pieces  called  '•  curricle 
guns,"  and  had  no  want  of  numbers  to  draw  them,  this  was 
not  an  obstacle  of  much  moment.  "With  fifty,  sometimes 
sixty,  peasants  to  a  gun,  they  advanced  at  a  run  up  places 
where  our  infantry  found  the  ascent  sufficiently  toilsome. 
Here,  indeed,  oui'  allies  showed  in  the  most  favorable 
colors  we  had  yet  seen  them.  The  prospect  of  a  fight 
seemed  to  excite  their  spirits  almost  to  madness ;  every 
height  they  surmounted  they  would  break  into  a  wild  cheer, 
and  the  vigor  with  which  they  tugged  the  heavy  ammuni- 
tion-carts through  the  deep  and  spongy  soil  never  interfered 
with  the  joyous  shouts  they  gave  and  the  merry  songs  they 
chanted  in  rude  chorus. 

"  Tra,  la,  la !  the  French  is  comin', 
What  '11  now  the  red  coats  do  1 
Maybe  they  won't  get  a  drubbin' ! 
Sure  we  '11  lick  them  black  and  blue  ! 

"  Ye  little  knew  the  day  was  near  ye, 

Ye  little  thought  they  'd  come  so  far  ; 
But  here 's  the  boys  that  never  fear  ye,  — 
Run,  yer  sowls,  for  Castlebar  !  " 

To  this  measure  they  stepped  in  time ;  and  although  the 
poetry  was  lost  upon  our  ignorance,  the  rattling  joyousness 
of  the  air  sounded  pleasantly,  and  our  men,  soon  catching 
up  the  tune,  joined  heartily  in  the  chorus. 

Another  very  popular  melody  ran  somewhat  thus :  — 

"  Our  day  is  now  begun, 

Says  the  Shan  van  voght. 
Our  day  is  now  begun, 

Says  the  Shan  van  voght. 
Our  day  is  now  begun. 
And  ours  is  all  the  fun  ! 
Be  my  sowl  ye  'd  better  run  ! 

Says  the  Shan  van  voght !  " 

There  were  something  like  a  hundred  verses  to  this  famous 
air,  but  it  is  more  than  likely,  from  the  specimen  given  above, 
that  my  reader  will  forgive  the  want  of  memory  that  leave«s 
me   unable  to   quote   the   remaining  ninety-nine ;  nor  is  it 


THE  DAY  OF  "  CASTLEBAR."  221 

necessary  that  I  should  add  that  the  merit  of  these  canticles 
lay  in  the  hoarse  accord  of  a  thousand  rude  voices,  heard  in 
the  stillness  of  a  wild  mountain  region,  and  at  a  time  when 
an  eventful  struggle  was  before  us.  Such  were  the  circum- 
stances which  possibly  made  these  savage  rhymes  assume 
something  of  terrible  meaning. 

"We  had  just  arrived  at  the  entrance  of  Barnageeragh, 
when  one  of  our  mounted  scouts  rode  up  to  say  that  a 
peasant,  who  tended  cattle  on  the  mountains,  had  evidently 
observed  our  approach,  and  hastened  into  Castlebar  with 
the  tidings. 

It  was  difficult  to  make  General  Humbert  understand  this 
fact. 

' '  Is  this  the  patriotism  we  have  heard  so  much  of  ?  Are 
these  the  people  who  would  welcome  us  as  deliverers  ?  Par- 
hleu!  I've  seen  nothing  but  lukewarmness  or  downright 
opposition  since  I  landed !  In  that  same  town  we  have 
just  quitted  —  a  miserable  hole,  too,  was  it  —  what  was  the 
first  sight  that  greeted  us?  A  fellow  in  our  uniform  hang- 
ing from  the  stanchion  of  a  window,  with  an  inscription 
round  his  neck  to  the  purport  that  he  was  a  traitor !  This 
is  the  fraternity  which  our  Irish  friends  never  wearied  to 
speak  of !  " 

Oiu'  march  was  now  hastened,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  we 
debouched  from  the  narrow  gorge  into  the  open  plain  before 
the  town  of  Castlebar.  A  few  shots  in  our  front  told  us  that 
the  advanced  picket  had  fallen  in  with  the  enemy,  but  a 
French  cheer  also  proclaimed  that  the  Royalists  had  fallen 
back,  and  our  march  continued  unmolested.  The  road, 
which  was  wide  and  level  here,  traversed  a  flat  country 
without  hedgerow  or  cover,  so  that  we  were  able  to  advance 
in  close  column,  without  any  precaution  for  our  flanks ;  but 
before  us  there  was  a  considerable  ascent,  which  shut  out  all 
\iew  of  the  track  beyond  it.  Up  this  our  advanced  guard 
was  toiling,  somewhat  wearied  with  a  seven  hours'  march 
and  the  heat  of  a  warm  morning,  when  scarcely  had  the 
leading  files  topped  the  ridge  than  plump  went  a  round-shot 
over  their  heads,  which,  after  describing  a  fine  curv^e,  plunged 
into  the  soft  surface  of  a  newly-ploughed  field.  The  troops 
were  instantly  retired  behind  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  an 


222  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

orderly  despatched  to  inform  the  general  that  we  were  in 
face  of  the  enemy.  He  had  already  seen  the  shot  and 
marked  its  dkection.  The  main  body  was  accordingly  halted, 
and,  defiling  from  the  centre,  the  troops  extended  on  either 
side  into  the  fields.  While  this  movement  was  being  effected 
Humbert  rode  forward,  and,  crossing  the  ridge,  reconnoitred 
the  enemy. 

It  was,  as  he  afterwards  obsen^ed,  a  stronger  force  than 
he  had  anticipated,  consisting  of  between  three  and  four 
thousand  bayonets,  with  four  squadrons  of  horse,  and  two 
batteries  of  eight  guns,  the  whole  admirably  posted  on  a 
range  of  heights  in  front  of  the  town,  and  completely 
covering  it. 

The  ridge  was  scarcely  eight  hundred  yards'  distance,  and 
so  distinctly  was  every  object  seen  that  Humbert  and  his 
two  aides-de-camp  were  at  once  marked  and  fired  at,  even  in 
the  few  minutes  during  which  the  reconnaissance  lasted. 

As  the  general  retu'ed  the  firing  ceased ;  and  now  all  our 
arrangements  were  made  without  molestation  of  any  kind. 
They  were,  indeed,  of  the  simplest  and  speediest.  Two  com- 
panies of  our  grenadiers  were  marched  to  the  front,  and  in 
advance  of  them,  about  twenty  paces,  were  posted  a  body 
of  Irish  in  French  uniforms,  —  this  place  being  assigned 
them,  it  was  said,  as  a  mark  of  honor,  but  in  reality  for  no 
other  purpose  than  to  draw  on  them  the  Royalist  artillery, 
and  thus  screen  the  grenadiers. 

Under  cover  of  this  force  came  two  light  six-pounder 
guns,  loaded  with  grape,  and  intended  to  be  discharged  at 
point-blank  distance.  The  infantry  brought  up  the  rear 
in  three  compact  columns,  ready  to  deploy  into  line  at  a 
moment. 

In  these  very  simple  tactics  no  notice  whatever  was  taken 
of  the  great  rabble  of  Irish  who  hung  upon  our  flanks  and 
rear  in  disorderly  masses,  cursing,  swearing,  and  vocifera- 
ting in  all  the  license  of  insubordination ;  and  O'Donnell, 
whose  showy  uniform  contrasted  strikingly  with  the  dark- 
blue  coat  and  low  glazed  cocked  hat  of  Humbert,  was  now 
appealed  to  by  his  countrymen  as  to  the  reason  of  this  pal- 
pable slight. 

"  What  does  he  want,  what  does  the  fellow  say?"  asked 


THE   DAY   OF   "  CASTLEBAR."  223 

Humbert,  as  he  noticed  his  excited  gestures  and  passionate 
manner. 

'"He  is  remonstrating,  sir,  "  replied  I,  "on  the  neglect 
of  his  countrymen ;  he  sa^^s  that  they  do  not  seem  treated 
like  soldiers ;  no  post  has  been  assigned  nor  any  order  given 
them." 

"Tell  him,  sir,"  said  Humbert,  with  a  savage  grin,  "that 
the  discipline  we  have  tried  in  vain  to  teach  them  hitherto 
we  '11  not  venture  to  rehearse  under  an  enemy's  fire ;  and  tell 
him  also  that  he  and  his  ragged  followers  are  free  to  leave 
us,  or,  if  they  like  better,  to  turn  against  us,  at  a  moment's 
warning." 

I  was  saved  the  unpleasant  task  of  interpreting  this  civil 
message  by  Couolly,  who,  taking  O'Dounell  aside,  ai)peared 
endeavoring  to  reason  with  him,  and  reduce  him  to  something 
like  moderation. 

"  There,  look  at  them,  they  're  mnning  like  sheep  !  "  cried 
Humbert,  laughing,  as  he  pointed  to  an  indiscriminate  rabble, 
some  hundred  yards  off  in  a  meadow,  and  who  had  taken  to 
theu'  heels  on  seeing  a  round-shot  plunge  into  the  earth  near 
them.  "Come  along,  sir;  come  with  me,  and  when  you 
have  seen  what  fire  is,  you  may  go  back  and  tell  your  country- 
men!    Serasin,  is  all  ready?     Well  then,  foi-ward,  march!  " 

"  March  !  "  was  now  re-echoed  along  the  line,  and  steadily, 
as  on  a  parade,  our  hardy  infantry  stepped  out,  while 
the  drums  kept  up  a  continued  roll  as  we  mounted  the 
hill. 

The  first  to  cross  the  crest  of  the  ascent  were  the  "Le- 
gion," as  the  Irish  were  called,  who,  dressed  like  French 
soldiers,  were  selected  for  some  slight  superiority  in  discipline 
and  bearing.  They  had  but  gained  the  ridge,  however, 
when  a  well-directed  shot  from  a  six-pounder  smashed  in 
amongst  them,  killing  two,  and  wounding  six  or  seven  others. 
The  whole  mass  immediately  fell  back  on  our  grenadiers. 
The  confusion  compelled  the  supporting  column  to  lialt,  and 
once  more  the  troops  were  retired  behind  the  hill. 

"  Forward,  men,  foi-ward  !  "  cried  Humbert,  riding  up  to 
the  front,  and  in  evident  impatience  at  these  repeated 
checks ;  and  now  the  grenadiers  passed  to  the  front,  and, 
mounting  the  height,  passed  over,  while  a  shower  of  balls 


224  IVIAURICE  TIERNAY. 

flew  over  and  around  them.  A  small  slated  house  stood  half 
way  down  the  hill,  and  for  this  the  leading  files  made  a  dash 
and  gained  it,  just  as  the  main  body  were,  for  the  third 
time,  driven  back  to  re-form. 

It  was  now  evident  that  an  attack  in  column  could  not 
succeed  against  a  fire  so  admirably  directed,  and  Humbert 
quickly  deployed  into  line,  and  prepared  to  storm  the  enemy's 
position. 

Up  to  this  the  conduct  of  the  Royalists  had  been  marked 
by  the  greatest  steadiness  and  determination.  Every  shot 
from  their  batteries  had  told,  and  all  promised  an  easy  and 
complete  success  to  theii'  arms.  No  sooner,  however,  had 
our  infantry  extended  into  line,  than  the  militia,  unaccus- 
tomed to  see  an  enemy  before  them,  and  unable  to  calculate 
distance,  opened  a  useless,  dropping  fire  at  a  range  where 
not  a  bullet  could  reach ! 

The  ignorance  of  this  movement  and  the  irregularity  of 
the  discharge  were  not  lost  upon  our  fellows,  most  of  whom 
were  veterans  of  the  army  of  the  Rhine,  and  with  a  loud 
cheer  of  derision  our  troops  advanced  to  meet  them,  while  a 
cloud  of  sku-mishers  dashed  forward  and  secui-ed  themselves 
under  cover  of  a  hedge. 

Even  yet,  however,  no  important  advantage  had  been 
gained  by  us,  and  if  the  Royalists  had  kept  their  ground  in 
support  of  their  artillery  we  must  have  been  driven  back 
with  loss ;  but,  fortunately  for  us,  a  movement  we  made  to 
keep  open  order  was  mistaken  by  some  of  the  militia  officers 
for  the  preparation  to  outflank  them ;  a  panic  seized  the 
whole  line,  and  they  fell  back,  leaving  their  guns  totally 
exposed  and  unprotected. 

' '  They  're  running  !  they  're  running  !  "  was  the  cry  along 
our  line ;  and  now  a  race  was  seen,  which  should  be  first  up 
with  the  artillery.  The  cheers  at  this  moment  were  tremen- 
dous ;  for  our  "  allies,"  who  had  kept  wide  aloof  hitherto, 
were  now  up  with  us,  and,  more  lightly  equipped  than  we 
were,  soon  took  the  lead.  The  temerity,  however,  was 
costly,  for  three  several  times  did  the  Royalist  artillery  load 
and  fire ;  and  each  discharge,  scarcely  at  half -musket  range, 
was  terribly  effective. 

We  were  by  no  means  prepared  for  either  so  sudden  or 


THE   DAY  OF  "CASTLEBAR."  225 

complete  a  success ;  and  the  scene  was  exciting  in  the  high- 
est degree,  as  the  whole  line  mounted  the  hill,  cheering 
madly.  From  the  crest  of  this  rising  ground  we  could  now 
see  the  town  of  Castlebar  beneath  us,  into  which  the  Royal- 
ists were  scampering  at  full  speed.  A  preparation  for 
defending  the  bridge  into  the  town  did  not  escape  the  watch- 
ful eyes  of  our  general,  who  again  gave  the  word  "  For- 
ward !  "  not  by  the  road  alone,  but  also  by  the  fields  at 
either  side,  so  as  to  occupy  the  houses  that  should  command 
the  bridge,  and  which,  by  a  palpable  neglect,  the  others  had 
forgotten  to  do. 

Our  small  body  of  horse,  about  twenty  hussars,  were 
ordered  to  charge  the  bridge,  and  had  they  been  even  moder- 
ately well  mounted  must  have  captured  the  one  gun  of  the 
enemy  at  once ;  but  the  miserable  cattle,  unable  to  strike  a 
canter,  only  exposed  them  to  a  sharp  musketry,  and  when 
they  did  reach  the  bridge  five  of  their  number  had  fallen. 
The  six-pounder  was,  however,  soon  taken,  and  the  gunners 
sabred  at  theii*  posts,  while  our  advanced  guard  coming  up, 
completed  the  ^ictory;  and  nothing  now  remained  but  a 
headlong  flight. 

Had  we  possessed  a  single  squadron  of  dragoons,  few 
could  have  escaped  us,  for  not  a  vestige  of  discipline  re- 
mained. All  was  wild  confusion  and  panic.  Such  of  the 
oflScers  as  had  ever  seen  sei-vice  were  already  killed  or  badly 
wounded ;  and  the  younger  ones  were  perfectly  unequal  to 
the  difficult  task  of  rallying  or  restoring  order  to  a  routed 
force. 

The  scene  in  the  market-square,  as  we  rode  in,  is  not 
easily  to  be  forgotten ;  about  two  hundred  prisoners  were 
standing  in  a  group,  disarmed,  it  is  true,  but  quite  unguarded, 
and  without  any  preparation  or  precaution  against  escape. 

Six  or  seven  English  officers,  amongst  whom  were  two 
majors,  were  gathered  around  General  Humbert,  who  was 
conversing  with  them  in  tones  of  easy  and  jocular  famil- 
iarity. The  captured  guns  of  the  enemy  (fourteen  in  all) 
were  being  ranged  on  one  side  of  the  square,  while  behind 
them  were  drawn  up  a  strange-looking  line  of  men,  with 
theii'  coats  turned.  These  were  part  of  the  Kilkenny  militia, 
who  had  deserted  to  our  ranks  after  the  retreat  began. 

15 


226  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

Such  was  the  "fight "  of  Castlebar,  —  it  would  be  absurd  to 
call  it  a  '^  battle,"  —  a  day  too  inglorious  for  the  Royalists  to 
reflect  any  credit  upon  us ;  but,  such  as  it  was,  it  raised  the 
spirits  of  our  Irish  followers  to  a  pitch  of  madness,  and  out 
of  our  own  ranks  none  now  doubted  the  certainty  of  Irish 
independence. 

Our  occupation  of  the  town  lasted  only  a  week ;  but  brief 
as  the  time  was,  it  was  sufficient  to  widen  the  breach  between 
ourselves  and  our  allies  into  an  open  and  undisguised  hatred. 
There  were,  unquestionably,  wrongs  on  both  sides.  As  for 
us,  we  were  thoroughly,  bitterly  disappointed  in  the 
character  of  those  we  had  come  to  liberate ;  and  making 
the  egregious  mistake  of  confounding  these  semi-civilized 
peasants  with  the  Irish  people,  we  deeply  regretted  that  ever 
the  French  army  should  have  been  sent  on  so  worthless  a 
mission.  As  for  them,  they  felt  insulted  and  degraded  by 
the  offensive  tone  we  assumed  towards  them.  Not  alone 
were  they  never  regarded  as  comrades,  but  a  taunting  inso- 
lence of  manner  was  assumed  in  all  our  dealings  with  them, 
very  strikingly  in  contrast  to  that  with  which  we  conducted 
ourselves  towards  all  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  island, 
even  those  who  were  avowedly  inimical  to  our  object  and  our 
cause. 

These  things,  with  native  quickness,  they  soon  remarked. 
They  saw  the  consideration  and  politeness  with  which  the 
bishop  and  his  family  were  treated ;  they  saw  several 
Protestant  gentlemen  suffered  to  return  to  their  homes  ' '  on 
parole."  They  saw  too  —  worst  grievance  of  all  —  how  all 
attempts  at  pillage  were  restrained,  or  severely  punished ; 
and  they  asked  themselves,  "  To  what  end  a  revolt,  if  neither 
massacre  nor  robbery  were  to  follow?  If  they  wanted 
masters  and  rulers,  sure  they  had  the  English  that  they  were 
used  to,  and  could  at  least  understand." 

Such  were  the  causes  and  such  the  reasonings  which 
gradually  eat  deeper  and  deeper  into  their  minds,  rendering 
them  at  first  sullen,  gloomy,  and  suspicious,  and  at  last 
insubordinate  and  openly  insulting  to  us. 

Their  leaders  were  the  first  to  exhibit  this  state  of  feeling. 
Affecting  a  haughty  disdain  for  us,  they  went  about  with  dis- 
paraging stories  of  the  French  soldiery ;  and  at  last  went 
even  so  far  as  to  impugn  their  courage. 


THE   DAY   OF  "CASTLEBAR."  227 

In  one  of  the  versions  of  the  affah'  of  Castlebar,  it  was 
roundly  asserted  that  but  for  the  Irish  threatening  to  fire  on 
them  the  French  would  have  turned  and  lied ;  while  in 
another  the  tactics  of  that  day  were  all  ascribed  to  the  mili- 
tary genius  of  Neal  Kerrigan,  who,  by  the  bye,  was  never 
seen  from  early  morning  until  late  the  same  afternoon,  when 
he  rode  into  Castlebar  on  a  fine  bay  horse  that  belonged  to 
Captain  Shortall  of  the  Royal  Artillery. 

If  the  feeling  between  us  and  our  allies  was  something 
less  than  cordial,  nothing  could  be  more  friendly  than  that 
which  subsisted  between  us  and  such  of  the  Royalists  as  we 
came  in  contact  with.  The  officers  who  became  our  prisoners 
were  treated  with  every  deference  and  respect.  Two  field- 
officers  and  a  captain  of  carbineers  dined  daily  with  the 
general,  and  Serasin  entertained  several  others.  We  liked 
them  greatly ;  and  I  believe  I  am  not  flattering,  if  I  say  that 
they  were  equally  satisfied  with  us.  "  Nos  amis  I'ennemis," 
was  the  constant  expression  used  in  talking  of  them ;  and 
every  day  drew  closer  the  ties  of  this  comrade  regard  and 
esteem. 

Such  was  the  cordial  tone  of  intimac}"  maintained  between 
us  that  I  remember  well,  one  evening  at  Humbert's  table,  an 
animated  discussion  being  carried  on  between  the  general 
and  an  English  staff-officer  on  the  campaign  itself,  —  the 
Royalist  averring  that  in  marching  southward  at  all  a  gross 
and  m-eparable  mistake  had  been  made,  and  that  if  the 
French  had  occupied  Sligo,  and  extended  their  wings 
towards  the  north,  they  would  have  secured  a  position  of 
infinitely  greater  strength,  and  also  become  the  centre  for 
rallying  round  them  a  population  of  a  very  different  order 
from  the  half -starved  tribes  of  Ma^^o. 

Humbert  affected  to  say  that  the  reason  for  his  actual  plan 
was  that  twenty  thousand  French  were  daily  expected  to 
land  in  Lough  Swilly,  and  that  the  western  attack  was 
merely  to  occupy  time  and  attention  while  the  more  formid- 
able movement  went  on  elsewhere. 

I  know  not  if  the  English  believed  this ;  I  rather  suspect 
not.  Certes,  they  were  too  polite  to  express  any  semblance 
of  distrust  of  what  was  told  them  with  all  the  air  of  truth. 

It  was  amusing,  too,  to  see  the  candor  with  which  each 


228  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

party  discussed  the  other  to  his  face,  —  the  French  general 
criticising  all  the  fault}'  tactics  and  defective  manoeuvres  of 
the  Roj^alists ;  while  the  English  never  hesitated  to  aver  that 
whatever  momentary  success  might  wait  upon  the  French 
arms,  they  were  just  as  certain  to  be  obliged  to  capitulate  in 
the  end. 

"  You  know  it  better  than  I  do,  General,"  said  the  major 
of  dragoons.  "  It  may  be  a  day  or  two  earlier  or  later,  but 
the  issue  will  and  must  be  —  a  suiTender." 

"I  don't  agree  with  you,"  said  Humbert,  laughing;  "I 
think  there  will  be  more  than  one  '  Castlebar.'  But  let  the 
worst  happen,  —  and  you  must  own  that  your  haughty  coun- 
try has  received  a  heavy  insult,  —  your  great  England  has 
got  a  sovfflH  in  the  face  of  all  Europe  !  " 

This,  which  our  general  regarded  as  a  great  compensation, 
—  the  greatest,  perhaps,  he  could  receive  for  all  defeat,  — 
did  not  seem  to  affect  the  English  with  proportionate  dismay, 
nor  even  to  ruffle  the  equanimity  of  their  calm  tempers. 

Upon  one  subject  both  sides  were  quite  agreed,  —  that  the 
peasantry  never  could  aid,  but  very  possibly  would  always 
shipwreck,  every  attempt  to  win  national  independence. 

"  I  should  have  one  army  to  fight  the  English,  and  two  to 
keep  down  the  Irish !  "  was  Humbert's  expression  ;  and  very 
little  experience  served  to  show  that  there  was  not  much 
exaggeration  in  the  sentiment. 

Our  we-ek  at  Castlebar  taught  us  a  good  lesson  in  this 
respect.  The  troops,  wearied  with  a  march  that  had  begun 
on  the  midnight  of  the  day  before,  and  with  an  engagement 
that  lasted  from  eight  till  two  in  the  afternoon,  were  obliged 
to  be  under  arms  for  several  hours  to  repress  pillage  and 
massacre.  Our  allies  now  filled  the  town,  to  the  number  of 
five  thousand,  openly  demanding  that  it  should  be  given  up 
to  them,  —  parading  the  streets  in  riotous  bands,  and  dis- 
playing banners  with  long  lists  of  names  doomed  for  imme- 
diate destruction. 

The  steadiness  and  temper  of  our  soldiery  were  severely 
tried  by  these  factious  and  insubordinate  spirits ;  but  dis- 
cipline prevailed  at  last,  and  before  the  first  evening  closed 
in  the  town  was  quiet,  and  for  the  tipie  at  least  danger 
over. 


CHAPTER  XXni. 

"  THE    T0WN-3IAJ0R    OF    CASTLEBAR." 

I  AM  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  or  not  I  owe  an  apology  to 
my  reader  for  turning  away  from  the  more  immediate  object 
of  this  memou*  of  a  life,  to  speak  of  events  which  have 
assumed  an  historical  reputation.  It  may  be  thought  ill- 
becoming  in  one  who  occupied  the  subordinate  station  that 
I  did,  to  express  himself  on  subjects  so  very  far  above  both 
his  experience  and  acquaintance ;  but  I  would  premise  that 
in  the  opinions  I  may  have  formed,  and  the  words  of  praise 
or  censure  dropped,  I  have  been  but  retailing  the  sentiments 
of  those  older  and  wiser  than  myself,  and  by  whose  guidance 
I  was  mainly  led  to  entertain  not  only  the  convictions  but 
the  prejudices  of  my  early  years. 

Let  the  reader  bear  in  mind,  too,  that  I  was  very  early  in 
life  thrown  into  the  society  of  men,  —  left  self-dependent,  in 
a  great  measure,  and  obliged  to  decide  for  myself  on  subjects 
which  usually  are  determined  by  older  and  more  mature 
heads.  So  much  of  excuse,  then,  if  I  seem  presumptuous 
in  saying  that  I  began  to  conceive  a  very  low  opinion 
generally  of  popular  attempts  at  independence,  and  a  very 
high  one  of  the  powers  of  military  skill  and  discipline.  A 
mob,  in  my  estimation,  was  the  ver}'  lowest,  and  an  army 
about  the  very  highest,  object  I  could  well  conceive.  My 
short  residence  at  Castlebar  did  not  tend  to  controvert  these 
impressions.  The  safety  of  the  town  and  its  inhabitants 
was  entirely  owing  to  the  handful  of  French  who  held  it, 
and  who,  wearied  with  guards,  pickets,  and  outpost  duty, 
were  a  mere  fraction  of  the  small  force  that  had  landed  a  few 
days  before, 

Our  "allies"  were  now  our  most  difficult  charge.  Aban- 
doning the  hopeless  task  of  drilling  and  disciplining  them, 
we  confined   ourselves   to  the   more   practical  office  of   re- 


230  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

straining  pillage  and  repressing  violence,  —  a  measui'e,  be  it 
said,  that  was  not  without  peril,  and  of  a  very  serious  kind. 
I  remember  one  incident,  which,  if  not  followed  by  grave 
consequences,  yet  appeared  at  the  tune  of  a  very  serious 
character. 

B}^  the  accidental  misspelling  of  a  name,  a  man  named 
Dowall,  a  notorious  ruffian  and  demagogue,  was  appointed 
'•  Commandant  de  Place,"  or  town-major,  instead  of  a  most 
respectable  shopkeeper  named  Downes,  and  who,  although 
soon  made  aware  of  the  mistake,  from  natural  timidity  took 
no  steps  to  undeceive  the  general.  Dowall  was  haranguing 
a  mob  of  half-drunken  vagabonds  when  his  commission  was 
put  into  his  hands,  and  accepting  the  post  as  an  evidence  of 
the  fears  the  French  entertained  of  his  personal  influence, 
became  more  overbearing  and  insolent  than  ever.  We  had 
a  very  gallant  officer,  the  second  major  of  the  twelfth 
Eegiment  of  the  Line,  killed  in  the  attack  on  Castlebar,  and 
this  Dowall  at  once  took  possession  of  poor  Delaitre's  horse, 
arms,  and  equipment.  His  coat  and  shako,  his  very  boots 
and  gloves,  the  scoundrel  appropriated,  and  as  if  in 
mockery  of  us  and  our  poor  friend,  assumed  a  habit  that 
he  had,  when  riding  fast,  to  place  his  sabre  between  his  leg 
and  the  saddle  to  prevent  its  striking  the  horse  on  the 
flanks. 

I  need  scarcely  say  that  thoroughly  disgusted  by  the 
unsightly  exhibition,  oui'  incessant  cares  and  the  endless 
round  of  duty  we  were  engaged  in,  as  well  as  the  critical 
position  we  occupied,  left  us  no  time  to  notice  the  fellow's 
conduct  by  any  other  than  a  passing  sign  of  anger  or  con- 
tempt, —  provocations  that  he  certainly  gave  us  back  as  inso- 
lently as  we  offered  them.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  general 
ever  saw  him,  but  I  know  that  incessant  complaints  were 
daily  made  to  him  about  the  man's  rapacity  and  tyranny,  and 
scarcely  a  morning  passed  without  a  dozen  remonstrances 
being  preferred  against  his  overbearing  conduct. 

Determined  to  have  his  own  countrymen  on  his  side,  he 
issued  the  most  absurd  orders  for  the  billeting  of  the  rabble, 
the  rations  and  allowances  of  all  kinds.  He  seized  upon  one 
of  the  best  houses  for  his  own  quarters  and  three  fine 
saddle-horses  for  his  personal  use,  besides  a  number  of 
Inferior  ones  for  the  ruffian  following:  he  called  his  staff. 


"THE  TOWN-MAJOR  OF  CASTLEBAR."  231 

It  was,  indeed,  enough  to  excite  laughter,  had  not  indig- 
nation been  the  more  powerful  emotion,  to  see  this  fellow  ride 
forth  of  a  morning,  —  a  tawdry  scarf  of  green,  with  deep  gold 
fringe,  thrown  over  his  shoulder,  and  a  saddle-cloth  of  tlie 
same  color,  profusely  studded  with  gold  shamrocks,  on  his 
horse ;  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand,  and  his  head  erect, 
followed  by  an  indiscriminate  rabble  on  foot  or  horseback, 
some  with  muskets,  some  pikes,  some  with  sword-blades, 
bayonets,  or  even  knives  fastened  on  sticks,  but  all  alike 
ferocious-looking  and  savage. 

They  affected  to  march  in  order,  and  with  a  rude  imita- 
tion of  soldiery  carried  something  like  a  knapsack  on  their 
shoulders,  sui'mounted  by  a  kettle,  or  tin  cup,  or  sometimes 
an  ii'on  pot,  —  a  grotesque  parody  on  the  trim  cooking  equip- 
ment of  the  French  soldier.  It  was  evident,  from  their  step 
and  bearing,  that  they  thought  themselves  in  the  very  height 
of  discipline  ;  and  this  very  assumption  was  far  more  insult- 
ing to  the  real  soldier  than  all  the  licentious  irregularity  of 
the  marauder.  If  to  us  they  were  objects  of  ridicule  and 
derision,  to  the  townspeople  they  were  images  of  terror  and 
dismay.  The  miserable  shopkeeper  who  housed  one  of  them 
lived  in  continual  fear;  he  knew  nothing  to  be  his  own,  and 
felt  that  his  property  and  family  were  every  moment  at  the 
dictate  of  a  ruffian  gang,  who  acknowledged  no  law,  nor  any 
rule  save  theii*  own  will  and  convenience.  Dowall's  squad 
were  indeed  as  great  a  terror  in  that  little  town  as  I  had 
seen  the  great  name  of  Robespierre  in  the  proud  city  of 
Paris. 

In  my  temporary  position  on  General  vSerasin's  staff,  I 
came  to  hear  much  of  this  fellow's  conduct.  The  most 
grievous  stories  were  told  me  every  day  of  his  rapacity  and 
cruelty;  but  harassed  and  overworked  as  the  general  was 
with  duties  that  would  have  been  over-much  for  three  or  four 
men,  I  forbore  to  trouble  him  with  recitals  which  could  only 
fret  and  distress  him  without  affording  the  slightest  chance 
of  relief  to  others.  Perhaps  this  impunity  had  rendered 
him  more  daring,  or,  perhaps  the  immense  number  of  armed 
Irish,  in  comparison  with  the  small  force  of  disciplined  sol- 
diers, emboldened  the  fellow ;  but  certainly  lie  grew  day  by 
day  more  presumptuous  and  insolent,  and  at  last  so  far  forgot 


232  MAUKICE  TIERNAY. 

himself  as  to  countermand  one  of  General  Serasin's  orders, 
by  which  a  guard  was  stationed  at  the  Protestant  church  to 
prevent  its  being  molested  or  injured  by  the  populace. 

General  Humbert  had  already  refused  the  Roman  Catholic 
priest  his  permission  to  celebrate  mass  in  that  building ;  but 
Dowr.ll  had  determined  otherwise,  and  that,  too,  by  a  written 
order  under  his  own  hand.  The  French  sergeant  who  com- 
manded the  guard  of  course  paid  little  attention  to  this  war- 
rant ;  and  when  Father  Hennisy  wanted  to  carry  the  matter 
with  a  high  hand,  he  coolly  tore  up  the  paper  and  threw  the 
fragments  at  him.  Dowall  was  soon  informed  of  the  slight 
offered  to  his  mandate.  He  was  at  supper  at  the  time,  enter- 
taining a  party  of  his  friends,  who  all  heard  the  priest's  story, 
and  of  course  loudly  sympathized  with  his  sorrows,  and 
invoked  the  powerful  leader's  aid  and  protection.  Affecting 
to  believe  that  the  sergeant  had  merely  acted  in  ignorance, 
and  from  not  being  able  to  read  English,  Dowall  despatched  a 
fellow,  whom  he  called  his  aide-de-camp,  —  a  schoolmaster 
named  Lowrie,  and  who  spoke  a  little  bad  French,  —  to  inter- 
pret his  command,  and  to  desire  the  sergeant  to  withdraw  his 
men  and  give  up  the  guard  to  a  party  of  "  the  squad." 

Great  was  the  surprise  of  the  supper  party,  when,  after 
the  lapse  of  half-an-hour,  a  country  fellow  came  in  to  say 
that  he  had  seen  Lowrie  led  off  to  prison  between  two 
French  soldiers.  By  this  time  Dowall  had  drunk  himself 
into  a  state  of  utter  recklessness ;  while  encouraged  by  his 
friend's  praises,  and  the  arguments  of  his  own  passions,  he 
fancied  that  he  might  dispute  ascendancy  with  General 
Humbert  himself.  He  at  once  ordered  out  his  horse,  and 
gave  a  command  to  assemble  "  the  squad."  As  they  were 
all  billeted  in  his  immediate  vicinity,  this  was  speedily 
effected,  and  their  numbers  swelled  by  a  vast  mass  of  idle 
and  curious,  who  were  eager  to  see  how  the  matter  would 
end;  the  whole  street  was  crowded,  and  when  Dowall 
mounted,  his  followers  amounted  to  above  a  thousand 
people. 

If  our  sergeant,  an  old  soldier  of  the  "  Sambre  et  Meuse," 
had  not  already  enjoyed  some  experience  of  our  allies,  it  is 
more  than  likely  that,  seeing  theii*  hostile  advance,  he  would 
have  fallen  back  upon  the  main  guard,  then  stationed  in  the 


"THE  TOWN-MAJOR  OF  CASTLEBAR."  233 

market-square.  As  it  was,  he  simply  retired  his  party 
within  the  church,  the  door  of  which  had  ah'eady  been 
pierced  for  the  use  of  musketry.  This  done,  and  one  of  his 
men  being  despatched  to  headquarters  for  advice  and  orders, 
he  waited  patiently  for  the  attack. 

I  happened  that  night  to  make  one  of  General  Serasin's 
dinner  party,  and  we  were  sitting  over  our  wine,  when  the 
otiicer  of  the  guard  entered  hastily  with  the  tidings  of  what 
was  going  on  in  the  town. 

*'  Is  it  the  Commandant  de  Place  himself  is  at  the  head?" 
exclaimed  Serasin,  in  amazement,  such  a  thouo;ht  bein";  a 
direct  shock  to  all  his  ideas  of  military  discipline. 

"  Yes,  sii',"  said  the  officer,  "  the  soldier  knows  his  appear- 
ance well,  and  can  vouch  for  its  being  him." 

"  As  I  know  something  of  him.  General,"  said  I,  "  I  may 
as  well  mention  that  nothing  is  more  likely." 

"  Who  is  he  —  what  is  he? "  asked  Serasin,  hastily. 

A  very  brief  account  (I  need  not  say  not  a  flattering  one) 
told  all  that  1  knew  or  had  ever  heard  of  our  worthy 
Town  Major,  —  many  of  the  officers  around  corroborating, 
as  I  went  on,  all  that  1  said,  and  interpolating  little  details 
of  theii'  own  about  his  robberies  and  exactions. 

"  And  yet  I  have  heard  nothing  of  all  this  before,"  said 
the  general,  looking  sternly  around  him  on  every  side. 

None  ventured  on  a  reply,  and  what  might  have  followed 
there  is  no  guessing,  when  the  sharp  rattle  of  musketry  cut 
short  all  discussion. 

"  That  fire  was  not  given  by  soldiers,"  said  Serasin.  "  Go, 
Tiernay,  and  bring  this  fellow  before  me  at  once." 

I  bowed,  and  was  leaving  the  room,  when  an  officer,  hav- 
ing whispered  a  few  words  in  Serasin's  ear,  the  general 
called  me  back,  saying,  — 

"You  are  not  to  incur  any  risk,  Tiernay;  I  want  no 
struggle,  still  less  a  rescue.     You  understand  me?" 

"Perfectly,  General;  the  matter  will,  I  trust,  be  easy 
enough." 

And  so  I  left  the  room,  my  heart  —  shall  I  avow  it  ?  — 
bumping  and  throbbing  in  a  fashion  that  gave  a  very  poor 
corroboration  to  my  words.  There  were  alwa^'s  three  or  four 
horses  ready  saddled  for  duty  at  each  general's  quarters,  and 


234  IMAURICE  TIERNAY. 

taking  one  of  them,  I  ordered  a  corporal  of  dragoons  to 
follow  me,  and  set  out.  It  was  a  fine  night  of  autumn ;  the 
last  faint  sunlight  was  yet  struggling  with  the  coming  dark- 
ness, as  I  rode  at  a  brisk  trot  down  the  main  street  towards 
the  scene  of  action. 

I  had  not  proceeded  far  when  the  crowds  compelled  me  to 
slacken  my  pace  to  a  walk,  and  finding  that  the  people 
pressed  in  upon  me  in  such  a  way  as  to  prevent  anything  like 
a  defence  if  attacked,  still  more  any  chance  of  an  escape  by 
flight,  I  sent  the  corporal  foi-ward  to  clear  a  passage,  and 
announce  my  coming  to  the  redoubted  Commandant.  It 
was  curious  to  see  how  the  old  dragoon's  tactic  effected  his 
object,  and  with  what  speed  the  crowd  opened  and  fell  back, 
as  with  a  flank  movement  of  his  horse  he  "  passaged  "  up 
the  street,  prancing,  bounding,  and  back-leaping,  yet  all  the 
while  perfectly  obedient  to  the  hand,  and  never  deviating 
from  the  straight  line  in  the  very  middle  of  the  thoroughfare. 

I  could  catch  from  the  voices  around  me  that  the  mob  had 
fired  a  volley  at  the  church-door,  but  that  our  men  had  never 
returned  the  fire ;  and  now  a  great  commotion  of  the  crowd, 
and  that  swaj^ng,  surging  motion  of  the  mass  which  is  so 
peculiarly  indicative  of  a  coming  event,  told  that  something 
more  was  in  preparation.  And  such  was  it ;  for  already 
numbers  were  hurrying  foi-ward  with  straw-fagots,  broken 
furniture,  and  other  combustible  material,  which,  in  the 
midst  of  the  wildest  cries  and  shouts  of  triumph,  were  now 
being  heaped  up  against  the  door.  Another  moment,  and  I 
should  have  been  too  late ;  as  it  was,  my  loud  summons  to 
"  halt,"  and  a  bold  command  for  the  mob  to  fall  back,  only 
came  at  the  very  last  minute. 

"  Where 's  the  commandant?  "  said  I,  in  an  imperious  tone. 

"Who  wants  him?  "  responded  a  deep  husky  voice,  which 
I  well  knew  to  be  Dowall's. 

"  The  general  in  command  of  the  town,"  said  I  firmly,  — 
"  General  Serasin." 

"Maybe  I'm  as  good  a  general  as  himself,"  was  the 
answer.  "I  never  called  him  my  superior  yet, — did  I, 
boys?" 

"  Never —  devil  a  bit  —  why  would  you?  "  and  such  like, 
were  shouted  by  the  mob  around  us,  in  every  accent  of 
drunken  defiance. 


"THE  TOWN-MAJOR   OF  CASTLEBAR."  235 

"  You  '11  not  refuse  General  Serasiu's  invitation  to  confer 
with  you,  Commandant,  I  hope  ?  "  said  I,  affecting  a  tone  of 
respectful  civility,  while  I  gradually  drew  nearer  and  nearer 
to  him,  contriving,  at  the  same  time,  by  a  dexterous 
plunging  of  my  horse,  to  force  back  the  bystanders,  and 
thus  isolate  my  friend  Dowall. 

"Tell  him  I've  work  to  do  here,"  said  he,  "and  can't 
come  ;  but  if  he 's  fond  of  a  bonfire  he  may  as  well  step  down 
this  far  and  see  one." 

By  this  time,  at  a  gestm^e  of  command  from  me,  the 
corporal  had  placed  himself  on  the  opposite  side  of  Dowall's 
horse,  and  by  a  movement  similar  to  my  own,  completely 
drove  back  the  dense  mob,  so  that  we  had  him  completely 
in  our  power,  and  could  have  sabred  or  shot  him  at  any 
moment. 

"  General  Serasin  only  wishes  to  see  you  on  duty.  Com- 
mandant," said  I,  speaking  in  a  voice  that  could  be  heard 
over  the  entire  assemblage ;  and  then  dropping  it  to  a 
whisper,  only  audible  to  himself,  I  added,  "  Come  along 
quietly,  sir,  and  without  a  word.  If  you  speak,  if  you 
mutter,  or  if  you  lift  a  finger,  I'll  run  my  sabre  through 
your  body." 

"Forward!  way,  there!"  shouted  I  aloud,  and  the  cor- 
poral, holding  Dowall's  bridle,  pricked  the  horse  with  the 
point  of  his  sword,  and  right  through  the  crowd  we  went 
at  a  pace  that  defied  following,  had  any  the  daring  to  think 
of  it. 

So  sudden  was  the  act  and  so  imminent  the  peril,  for  I 
held  the  point  of  my  weapon  within  a  few  inches  of  his 
back  and  would  have  kept  my  word  most  assuredly  too,  that 
the  fellow  never  spoke  a  syllable  as  we  went,  nor  ventured 
on  even  a  word  of  remonstrance  till  we  descended  at  the 
general's  door.  Then,  with  a  voice  tremulous  with  restrained 
passion,  he  said,  — 

"  If  ye  think  I'll  forgive  ye  this  thrick,  my  fine  boy,  may 
the  flames  and  fire  be  my  portion !  and  if  I  have  n't  my 
revenge  on  ye  yet,  my  name  is  n't  Mick  Dowall." 

With  a  dogged,  sulky  resolution  he  mounted  the  stairs ; 
but  as  he  neared  the  room  where  the  general  was,  and  from 
which  his  voice  could  even  now  be  heard,  his  courage 
seemed  to  fail  him,  and  he  looked  back  as  though  to  see  if 


236  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

no  chance  of  escape  remained.  The  attempt  would  have 
been  hopeless,  and  he  saw  it. 

"  This  is  the  man,  General,"  said  I,  half  pushing  him 
forward  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  where  he  stood  with 
his  hat  on,  and  in  an  attitude  of  mingled  defiance  and  terror. 

"Tell  him  to  uncover,"  said  Serasin;  but  one  of  the 
aides-de-camp,  more  zealous  than  courteous,  stepped  forward 
and  knocked  the  hat  off  with  his  hand.  Dowall  never 
budged  an  inch  nor  moved  a  muscle  at  this  insult ;  to  look 
at  him,  you  could  not  have  said  that  he  was  conscious 
of  it. 

"  Ask  him  if  it  was  by  his  orders  that  the  guard  was  as- 
sailed," said  the  general. 

I  put  the  question  in  about  as  many  words,  but  he  made 
no  reply. 

' '  Does  the  man  know  where  he  is  ?  Does  he  know  who  I 
am?"  repeated  Serasin,  passionately. 

''  He  knows  both  well  enough,  sir,"  said  I;  "  this  silence 
is  a  mere  defiance  of  us." 

'''  Parbleul ''  cried  an  officer,  "that  is  the  coquin  took 
poor  Delaitre's  equipments ;  the  very  uniform  he  has  on  was 
his." 

"  The  fellow  was  never  a  soldier,"  said  another. 

"  I  know  him  well,"  interposed  a  thuxl,  —  "he  is  the  very 
terror  of  the  townsfolk." 

"  Who  gave  him  his  commission  —  who  appointed  him?" 
asked  Serasin. 

Apparently  the  fellow  could  follow  some  words  of  French, 
for  as  the  general  asked  this  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
crumpled  and  soiled  paper,  which  he  threw  heedlessly  upon 
the  table  before  us. 

"Why,  this  is  not  his  name,  sir,"  said  I;  "  this  appoint- 
ment is  made  out  in  the  name  of  Nicholas  Downes,  and  our 
friend  here  is  called  Dowall." 

"Who  knows  him  —  who  can  identify  him?"  asked 
Serasin. 

"  I  can  say  that  his  name  is  Dowall,  and  that  he  worked  as 
a  porter  on  the  quay  in  this  town  when  I  was  a  boy,"  said  a 
young  Irishman  who  was  copying  letters  and  papers  at  a  side 
table.  "  Yes,  Dowall,"  said  the  youth,  confronting  the  look 
which   the   other   gave   him,    ' '  I    am    neither    afraid   nor 


"THE  TOWN-MAJOR  OF  CASTLEBAR."  237 

ashamed  to  tell  you  to  3'our  face  that  I  know  you  well,  and 
who  you  are,  and  what  you  are." 

"  I  'm  an  otiicer  in  the  Irish  Independent  Army  now,"  said 
Dowall,  resolutely.  ''To  the  divil  I  fling  the  French  com- 
mission and  all  that  belongs  to  it.  'T  is  n't  troops  that  run 
and  guns  that  burst  we  want.  Let  them  go  back  again  the 
way  they  came  ;  we  're  able  for  the  work  ourselves." 

Before  I  could  translate  this  rude  speech  an  otiicer  broke 
into  the  room,  with  tidings  that  the  streets  had  been  cleared 
and  the  rioters  dispersed ;  a  few  prisoners,  too,  were  taken, 
whose  muskets  bore  trace  of  being  recently  discharged. 

"  They  fired  upon  our  pickets.  General,"  said  the  officer, 
whose  excited  look  and  voice  betrayed  how  deeply  he  felt 
the  outrage. 

The  men  were  introduced ;  three  ragged,  ill-looking 
wretches,  apparently  only  roused  from  intoxication  by  the 
terror  of  then-  situation,  for  each  was  guarded  by  a  soldier 
with  a  drawn  bayonet  in  his  hand. 

"  We  only  obeyed  ordhers,  my  lord ;  we  only  did  what  the 
Captain  tould  us,"  cried  they,  in  a  miserable,  whining  tone, 
for  the  sight  of  theii*  leader  in  captivity  had  sapped  all  their 
courage. 

"  What  am  I  here  for?  Who  has  any  business  with  me?  " 
said  Dowall,  assuming  before  his  followers  an  attempt  at  his 
former  tone  of  bully. 

"  Tell  him,"  said  Serasin,  "  that  wherever  a  French  gene- 
ral stands  in  full  command  he  will  neither  brook  insolence 
nor  insubordination.  Let  those  fellows  be  turned  out  of  the 
town,  and  warned  never  to  approach  the  quarters  of  the 
army  under  any  pretence  whatever.  As  for  this  scoundrel, 
we  '11  make  an  example  of  him.  Order  a  peloton  into  the 
yard,  and  shoot  him." 

I  rendered  this  speech  into  English  as  the  general  spoke  it, 
and  never  shall  I  forget  the  wild  scream  of  the  wretch  as  he 
heard  the  sentence. 

"I'm  an  officer  in  the  army  of  Ireland.  I  don't  belong 
to  ye  at  all.  You  've  no  power  over  me.  Oh,  Captain,  darlin', 
oh,  gentlemen,  speak  for  me!  General,  dear;  General, 
honey,  don't  sintince  me !  don't  for  the  love  of  God !  "  and  in 
grovelling  terror  the  miserable  creature  threw  himself  on  his 
knees  to  beg  for  merer. 


238  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"Tear  off  his  epaulettes,"  cried  Serasin ;  "never  let  a 
French  uniform  be  so  disgraced." 

The  soldiers  wrenched  off  the  epaulettes  at  the  command ; 
and  not  satisfied  with  this,  they  even  tore  away  the  lace 
from  the  cuffs  of  the  uniform,  which  now  hung  in  ragged 
fragments  over  his  trembling  hands. 

'•  Oh,  sir!  oh,  General  I  oh,  gentlemen,  have  marcy !  " 

"Away  with  him,"  said  Serasin,  contemptuously;  "  it  is 
only  the  cruel  can  be  such  cowards.  Give  the  fellow  his 
fusillade  with  blank  cartridge,  and  the  chances  are  fear  will 
kill  him  outright." 

The  scene  that  ensued  is  too  shocking,  too  full  of  abase- 
ment to  record ;  there  was  nothing  that  fear  of  death, 
nothing  that  abject  terror  could  suggest,  that  this  miserable 
wretch  did  not  attempt  to  save  his  life ;  he  wept,  he  begged 
in  accents  that  were  unworthy  of  all  manhood,  he  kissed 
the  very  ground  at  the  general's  feet  in  his  abject  sorrow ; 
and  when  at  last  he  was  dragged  from  the  room  his  screams 
were  the  most  terrific  and  piercing. 

Although  all  my  compassion  was  changed  into  contempt,  I 
felt  that  I  could  never  have  given  the  word  to-  fire  upon  him 
had  such  been  my  orders ;  his  fears  had  placed  him  below  all 
manhood,  but  they  still  formed  a  barrier  of  defence  around 
him.  I  accordingly  whispered  a  few  words  to  the  sergeant, 
as  we  passed  down  the  stairs,  and  then  affecting  to  have  for- 
gotten something,  I  stepped  back  towards  the  room  where 
the  general  and  his  staff  were  sitting.  The  scuffling  sound  of 
feet,  mingled  with  the  crash  of  firearms,  almost  drowned  the 
cries  of  the  still  struggling  wretch ;  his  voice,  however,  burst 
forth  into  a  wild  cry,  and  then  there  came  a  pause,  —  a  pause 
that  at  last  became  insupportable  to  my  anxiety,  and  I  was 
about  to  rush  downstairs  when  a  loud  yell,  a  savage  howl  of 
derision  and  hate,  burst  forth  from  the  street ;  and  on  looking 
out  I  saw  a  vast  crowd  before  the  door,  who  were  shouting 
after  a  man  whose  speed  soon  carried  him  out  of  reach. 
This  was  Dowall,  who,  thus  suffered  to  escape,  was  told  to 
fly  from  the  town  and  never  to  return  to  it. 

"Thank  Heaven,"  muttered  I,  "we've  seen  the  last  of 
him !  " 

The  rejoicing  was,  however,  premature. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

"the  mission  to  the  noutii." 

I  HAVE  never  yet  been  able  to  discover  whether  General 
Humbert  really  did  feel  the  confidence  that  he  assumed  at 
this  period,  or  that  he  merely  affected  it  the  better  to  sustain 
the  spirits  of  those  around  liim.  If  our  success  at  Castlebar 
was  undeniable,  our  loss  was  also  great,  and  far  more  than 
proportionate  to  all  the  advantages  we  had  acquired.  Six 
officers  and  two  hundred  and  forty  men  were  either  killed  or 
badly  wounded  ;  and  as  our  small  force  had  really  accpiired  no 
reinforcement  worth  the  name,  it  was  evident  that  another 
such  costly  victory  would  be  our  ruin. 

Not  one  gentleman  of  rank  or  influence  had  yet  joined  us, 
few  of  the  priesthood  ;  and  even  among  the  farmers  and 
peasantry  it  was  easy  to  see  that  our  recruits  comprised 
those  whose  accession  could  never  have  conferred  honor  or 
profit  on  any  cause. 

Our  situation  was  anything  l)ut  promising.  The  rumors 
that  reached  us  (and  we  had  no  other  or  more  accurate 
information  than  rumors)  told  that  an  army  of  thirty  thou- 
sand men,  under  the  command  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  was  in 
march  against  us ;  that  all  the  insurrectionary  movements  of 
the  south  were  completely  repressed ;  that  the  spirit  of  the 
rebels  was  crushed  and  their  confidence  broken,  either  by 
defeat  or  internal  treachery,  —  in  a  word,  that  the  expedition 
had  already  failed,  and  tlie  sooner  we  had  the  means  of  leav- 
ing the  land  of  our  disasters  the  better. 

Such  were  the  universal  feelings  of  all  my  comrades ;  but 
Humbert,  who  had  often  told  us  that  we  were  only  here  to 
eclairer  la  route  for  another  and  more  formidable  mission, 
now  pretended  to  think  that  we  were  progressing  most 
favorably  towards    a   perfect    success.     Perhaps    he    firmly 


240  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

believed  all  this,  or  perhaps  he  thought  that  the  pretence 
would  give  more  dignity  to  the  finale  of  an  exploit  which  he 
already  saw  was  nearly  played  out.  I  know  not  which  is 
the  true  explanation,  and  am  half  disposed  to  think  that  he 
was  actuated  as  much  by  one  impulse  as  the  other. 

The  "Army  of  the  North"  was  the  talisman,  which  we 
now  heard  of  for  the  first  time,  to  repaii'  all  our  disasters 
and  ensure  complete  victory.  The  "  Army  of  the  North," 
whose  strength  varied  from  twenty  to  twenty-five,  and  some- 
times reached  even  thirty  thousand,  men,  and  was  commanded 
by  a  distinguished  Irish  general,  was  now  the  centre  to  which 
all  our  hopes  turned.  Whether  it  had  already  landed  and 
where,  of  what  it  consisted  and  how  officered,  not  one  of  us 
knew  anything ;  but  by  dint  of  daily  repetition  and  discus- 
sion we  had  come  to  believe  in  its  existence  as  certainly  as 
though  we  had  seen  it  under  arms. 

The  credulous  lent  their  convictions  without  any  trouble 
to  themselves  whatever ;  the  more  sceptical  studied  the  map, 
and  fancied  twenty  different  places  in  which  they  might  have 
disembarked  ;  and  thus  the  "  Army  of  the  North  "  grew  to  be 
a  substance  and  reality  as  undoubted  as  the  scenes  before 
our  eyes. 

Never  was  such  a  ready  solution  of  all  difficulties  dis- 
covered as  this  same  "  Army  of  the  North."  Were  we  to  be 
beaten  by  Cornwallis,  it  was  only  a  momentary  check,  for 
the  "  Army  of  the  North  "  would  come  up  within  a  few  days 
and  turn  the  whole  tide  of  war.  If  our  Irish  allies  grew 
insubordinate  or  disorderly,  a  little  patience  and  the  "  Army 
of  the  North  "  would  settle  all  that.  Every  movement  pro- 
jected was  fancied  to  be  in  concert  with  this  redoubted  corps  ; 
and  at  last  every  trooper  that  rode  in  from  Killala  or  Ballina 
was  questioned  as  to  whether  his  despatches  did  not  come 
from  the  "Army  of  the  North." 

Frenchmen  will  believe  anything  you  like  for  twenty-four 
hours.  They  can  be  flattered  into  a  credulity  of  two  days, 
and  by  dint  of  great  artifice  and  much  persuasion  will  occa- 
sionally reach  a  third ;  but  there,  faith  has  its  limit ;  and  if 
nothing  palpable,  tangible,  and  real  intervene,  scepticism 
ensues ;  and  what  with  native  sarcasm,  ridicule,  and  irony, 
thev  will  demolish  the  card  edifice  of  credit  far  more  rapidly 


"THE  MISSION  TO  THE  NORTH."  241 

than  ever  they  raised  it.  For  two  whole  days  the  "  Army  of 
the  North  "  occupied  every  man  amongst  us.  We  toasted  it 
over  our  wine  ;  we  discussed  it  at  our  quarters  ;  we  debated 
upon  its  whereabouts,  its  strength,  and  its  probable  destina- 
tion ;  but  on  the  third  morning  a  terrible  shock  was  given 
to  our  feelings  by  a  volatile  young  lieutenant  of  hussars 
exclaiming,  — 

"  3/a  foi!  I  wish  I  could  see  this  same  'Army  of  the 
North ' ! '" 

Now,  although  nothing  w^as  more  reasonable  than  this 
wish,  nor  was  there  any  one  of  us  who  had  not  felt  a  similar 
desire,  this  sudden  expression  of  it  struck  us  all  most  forcibly ; 
and  a  shrinking  sense  of  doubt  spread  over  every  face,  and 
men  looked  at  each  other  as  though  to  say,  "Is  the  fellow 
capable  of  supposing  that  such  an  army  does  not  exist?" 
It  was  a  very  dreadful  moment,  —  a  terrible  interval  of 
struggle  between  the  broad  daylight  of  belief  and  the  black 
darkness  of  incredulity ;  and  we  turned  glances  of  actual 
dislike  at  the  man  who  had  so  unwarrantably  shaken  our 
settled  convictions. 

"  I  only  said  I  should  like  to  see  them  under  arms,"  stam- 
mered he,  in  the  confusion  of  one  who  saw  himself  exposed 
to  public  obloquy. 

This  half  apology  came  too  late,  —  the  mischief  was  done ; 
and  we  shunned  each  other  like  men  who  were  afraid  to  read 
the  accusation  of  even  a  shrewd  glance.  As  for  myself,  I 
can  compare  my  feelings  only  to  those  of  the  worthy  alder- 
man who  broke  out  into  a  paroxysm  of  grief  on  hearing 
that  "Robinson  Crusoe"  was  a  fiction.  I  believe,  on  that 
sudden  revulsion  of  feeling,  I  could  have  discredited  any  and 
everything.  If  there  was  no  "  Army  of  the  North,"  was  I 
quite  sure  that  there  was  any  expedition  at  all?  "Were  the 
generals  mere  freebooters,  the  chiefs  of  a  marauding  venture  ? 
Were  the  patriots  anything  but  a  disorderly  rabble  eager  for 
robbery  and  bloodshed?  Was  Irish  independence  a  mere 
phantom?  Such  were  among  the  shocking  terrors  that  came 
across  my  mind  as  I  sat  in  my  quarters,  far  too  dispirited  and 
depressed  to  mix  among  my  comrades. 

It  had  been  a  day  of  fatiguing  duty ;  and  I  was  not  sorry, 
as  night  fell,  that  I  might  betake  myself  to  bed,  to  forget,  if 

16 


242  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

it  might  be,  the  torturiug  doubts  that  troubled  me.  Sud- 
denly I  heard  a  heavy  foot  upon  the  stak,  and  an  orderly 
entered  with  a  command  for  me  to  repair'  to  the  headquarters 
of  the  general  at  once.  Never  did  the  call  of  duty  summon 
me  less  willing,  never  found  me  so  totally  disinclined  to  obey. 
I  was  weary  and  fatigued ;  but  worse  than  this,  I  was  out  of 
temper  with  myself,  the  service,  and  the  whole  world.  Had 
I  heard  that  the  Royal  forces  were  approaching,  I  was  ex- 
actly in  the  humor  to  have  dashed  into  the  thick  of  them,  and 
sold  my  life  as  dearly  as  I  could,  out  of  desperation. 

Discipline  is  a  powerful  antagonist  to  a  man's  caprices ; 
for  with  all  my  irritability  and  discontent  I  arose,  and  re- 
suming my  uniform  set  out  for  General  Humbert's  quarters. 
I  followed  "  the  orderly,"  as  he  led  the  way  through  many  a 
dark  street  and  crooked  alley  till  we  reached  the  square. 
There,  too,  all  was  in  darkness,  save  at  the  mainguard,  where 
as  usual  the  five  windows  of  the  first  story  were  a  blaze  of 
light,  and  the  sounds  of  mirth  and  revelry,  the  nightl}^  orgies 
of  our  officers,  were  ringing  out  in  the  stillness  of  the  quiet 
hour.  The  wild  chorus  of  a  soldier-song,  with  its  "  rantan- 
plan"  accompaniment  of  knuckles  on  the  table,  echoed 
through  the  square,  and  smote  upon  my  ear  with  anything 
but  a  congenial  sense  of  pleasure. 

In  my  heart  I  thought  them  a  senseless,  soulless  crew, 
that  could  give  themselves  to  dissipation  and  excess  on 
the  very  eve,  as  it  were,  of  om-  defeat;  and  with  hasty 
steps  I  turned  away  into  the  side  street,  where  a  large  lamp, 
the  only  light  to  be  seen,  proclaimed  General  Humbert's 
quarters. 

A  bustle  and  stir,  very  unusual  at  this  late  hour,  pervaded 
the  passages  and  stairs,  and  it  was  some  time  before  I  could 
find  one  of  the  staff  to  announce  my  arrival,  — which  at  last 
was  done  somewhat  unceremoniously,  as  an  officer  hurried 
me  through  a  large  chamber  crowded  with  the  staff  into  an 
inner  room,  where  on  a  small  field-bed  la}^  General  Humbert, 
without  coat  or  boots,  a  much-worn  scarlet  cloak  thrown  half 
over  him,  and  a  black  handkerchief  tied  round  his  head.  1 
had  scarcely  seen  him  since  our  landing,  and  I  could  with 
difficulty  recognize  the  burly,  high-complexioned  soldier  of 
a  few  days  back   in  the  worn  and  haggard  features  of  the 


"THE    MISSION  TO  THE  NORTH."  243 

sick  man  before  me.  An  attack  of  ague,  which  he  had 
originally  contracted  in  Holland,  had  relapsed  upon  him, 
and  he  was  now  suffering  all  the  lassitude  and  sickness  of 
that  most  depressing  of  all  maladies. 

Maps,  books,  plans,  and  sketches  of  various  kinds  scat- 
tered the  bed,  the  table,  and  even  the  floor  around  him ;  but 
his  attitude  as  I  entered  betrayed  the  exhaustion  of  one  who 
could  labor  no  longer,  and  whose  worn-out  faculties  demanded 
rest.  He  lay  flat  on  his  back,  his  arms  straight  down  beside 
him,  and,  with  half -closed  eyes,  seemed  as  though  falling  off 
to  sleep. 

His  first  aide-de-camp,  Merochamp,  was  standing  with  his 
back  to  a  small  turf  fii-e,  and  made  a  sign  to  us  to  be  still, 
and  make  no  noise  as  we  came  in. 

"He's  sleeping,"  said  he;  "it's  the  first  time  he  has 
closed  his  eyes  for  ten  days." 

We  stood  for  a  moment  uncertain,  and  were  about  to 
retrace  our  steps,  when  Humbert  said,  in  a  low,  weak 
voice,  — 

"  No,  I  'm  not  asleep  ;   come  in." 

The  officer  who  presented  me  now  retired,  and  I  advanced 
towards  the  bedside. 

"This  is  Tiernay,  General,"  said  Merochamp,  stooping 
down  and  speaking  low ;   "  you  wished  to  see  him." 

"  Yes,  I  wanted  him.  Ha!  Tiernay,  you  see  me  a  good 
deal  altered  since  we  parted  last;  however,  I  shall  be  all 
right  in  a  day  or  two ;  it 's  a  mere  attack  of  ague,  and  will 
leave  when  the  good  weather  comes.  I  wished  to  ask  you 
about  your  family,  Tiernay  ;   was  not  your  father  Irish?  " 

"  Xo,  sir;  we  were  Irish  two  or  three  generations  back, 
but  since  that  we  have  belonged  either  to  Austria  or  to 
France." 

"  Then  where  were  you  born?  " 

"In  Paris,  sir,  I  believe,  but  certainly  in  France." 

"  There  I  said  so,  Merochamp;  I  knew  that  the  boy  was 
French." 

"  Still,  I  don't  think  the  precaution  worthless,"  replied 
Merochamp;  "  Teeling  and  the  others  advise  it." 

"I  know  they  do,"  said  Humbert,  peevishly,  "and  for 
themselves  it  may  be    needful ;  but  this  lad's  case  will  be 


244  ^L\URICE    TIERNAY. 

injured,  not  bettered  by  it.  He  is  not  an  Irishman  ;  he  never 
was  at  any  time  a  British  subject.  Have  you  any  certificate 
of  birth  or  baptism,  Tiernay?" 

"None,  sir;  but  I  have  my  livret  for  the  School  of 
Saumur,  which  sets  forth  my  being  a  Frenchman  by  birth." 

"  Quite  sufficient,  boy,  let  me  have  it." 

It  was  a  document  which  I  always  carried  about  with  me 
since  I  landed,  to  enable  me  at  any  moment,  if  made  pris- 
oner, to  prove  myself  an  alien,  and  thus  escape  the  inculpa- 
tion of  fighting  against  the  flag  of  my  country.  Perhaps 
there  was  something  of  reluctance  in  my  manner  as  I  relin- 
quished it,  for  the  general  said,  "  I'll  take  good  care  of  it, 
Tiernay,  you  shaU  not  fare  the  worse  because  it  is  in  my 
keeping.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  some  of  our  Irish  offi- 
cers have  received  threatening  letters,  —  it  is  needless  to  say 
they  are  without  name,  —  stating  that  if  matters  go  unfortu- 
nately with  us  in  this  campaign,  they  will  meet  the  fate  of 
men  taken  in  open  treason ;  and  that  their  condition  of  offi- 
cers in  our  sersdce  will  avail  them  nothing.  I  do  not  believe 
this.  I  cannot  believe  that  they  will  be  treated  in  any 
respect  differently  from  the  rest  of  us.  However,  it  is  only 
just  that  I  should  tell  you  that  yom-  name  figures  amongst 
those  so  denounced  ;  for  this  reason  I  have  sent  for  you  now. 
You,  at  least,  have  nothing  to  apprehend  on  this  score.  You 
are  as  much  a  Frenchman  as  myself.  I  know  Merochamp 
thinks  differently  from  me,  and  that  your  Irish  descent  and 
name  will  be  quite  enough  to  involve  3'ou  in  the  fate  of 
others." 

A  gesture,  half  of  assent  but  half  of  impatience,  from  the 
aide-de-camp  here  arrested  the  speaker. 

"  Why  not  tell  him  frankly  how  he  stands?  "  said  Humbert, 
eagerly ;   "I  see  no  advantage  in  any  concealment." 

Then  addressing  me,  he  went  on.  "I  purpose,  Tiernay, 
to  give  you  the  same  option  I  gave  the  others,  but  which 
they  have  declined  to  accept.  It  is  this :  we  are  daily  ex- 
pecting to  hear  of  the  amval  of  a  force  in  the  north  under 
the  command  of  Generals  Tandy  and  Rey." 

"  The  '  Army  of  the  North'  ?  "  asked  I.  in  some  anxiety. 

"Precisely;  the  Army  of  the  North.  Now,  I  desire  to 
open  a  communication  with  them,  and  at  the  same  time  to 


"THE   ^nSSION  TO  THE   NORTH."  245 

do  SO  through  the  means  of  such  officers  as,  in  the  event  of 
any  disaster  here,  may  have  the  escape  to  France  open  to 
them  which  this  army  will  have,  and  which,  I  need  not  say, 
we  have  no  longer.  Our  Irish  friends  have  declined  this 
mission  as  being  more  likely  to  compromise  them  if  taken, 
and  also  as  diminishing  and  not  increasing  their  chance  of 
escape.  In  my  belief  that  you  were  placed  similarly  I  have 
sent  for  you  here  this  evening,  and  at  the  same  time  desire 
to  impress  upon  you  that  your  acceptance  or  refusal  is  purely 
a  matter  at  your  own  volition." 

"  Am  I  to  regard  the  matter  simply  as  one  of  dut3%  sir,  or 
as  an  opportunity  of  consulting  my  personal  safety? " 

"  What  shall  I  say  to  this,  Merochamp? "  asked  Humbert, 
bluntly. 

' '  That  you  are  running  to  the  full  as  many  risks  of  being 
hanged  for  going  as  by  staying;  such  is  my  opinion,"  said 
the  aide-de-camp.     "  Here  as  a  rebel,  there  as  a  spy." 

"I  confess,  then,"  said  I,  smiling  at  the  cool  brevity  of 
the  speech,  "  the  choice  is  somewhat  embarrassing  !  May  I 
ask  what  you  advise  me  to  do,  General? " 

"  I  should  say  go,  Tiernay." 

"  Go,  by  all  means,  lad,"  broke  in  the  aide-de-camp,  who 
throughout  assumed  a  tone  of  dictation  and  familiarity  most 
remarkable.  "  If  a  stand  is  to  be  made  in  this  miserable 
country  it  will  be  with  Key's  force ;  here  the  game  will  not 
last  much  longer.  There  lies  the  only  man  capable  of  con- 
ducting such  an  expedition,  and  his  health  cannot  stand  up 
against  its  trials  !  " 

"Not  so,  Merochamp;  I'll  be  on  horseback  to-morrow, 
or  the  day  after  at  furthest ;  and  if  I  never  were  to  take  the 
field  again,  there  are  others,  yourself  amongst  the  number, 
well  able  to  supply  my  place.  But  to  Tiernay  — what  s&js 
he?" 

"  Make  it  duty,  sir,  and  I  shall  go,  or  remain  here  with  an 
easy  conscience,"  said  I. 

"  Then  duty  be  it,  boy,"  said  he  ;  "  and  Merochamp  will 
tell  you  everything,  for  all  this  discussion  has  wearied  me 
much,  and  I  cannot  endure  more  talking." 

"  Sit  down  here,"  said  the  aide-de-camp,  pointing  to  a 
seat  at  his  side,  "  and  five  minutes  will  suffice." 


246  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

He  opened  a  large  map  of  Ireland  before  us  on  the  table, 
and  running  his  finger  along  the  coast-line  of  the  western 
side,  stopped  abruptly  at  the  bay  of  Lough  Swilly. 

"  There,"  said  he,  "  that  is  the  spot.  There,  too,  should 
have  been  our  own  landing.  The  whole  population  of  the 
North  will  be  with  them,  —  not  such  allies  as  these  fellows, 
but  men  accustomed  to  the  use  of  arms,  able  and  willing  to 
take  the  field.  They  say  that  five  thousand  men  could  hold 
the  passes  of  those  mountains  against  thirty." 

"Who  says  this?"  said  I,  for  I  own  that  I  had  grown 
marvellously  sceptical  as  to  testimony. 

"  Xapper  Tandy,  who  is  a  general  of  division,  and  one  of 
the  leaders  of  this  force ;  "  and  he  went  on :  "  The  utmost 
we  can  do  will  be  to  hold  these  towns  to  the  westward  till 
they  join  us.  We  may  stretch  away  thus  far,"  and  he  moved 
his  finger  towards  the  du'ection  of  Leitrim,  "  but  no  farther. 
You  will  have  to  communicate  with  them ;  to  explain  what 
we  have  done,  where  we  are,  and  how  we  are.  Conceal 
nothing ;  let  them  hear  f auiy  that  this  patriot  force  is  worth 
nothing,  and  that  even  to  garrison  the  towns  we  take  they 
are  useless.  Tell  them,  too,  the  sad  mistake  we  made  by 
attempting  to  organize  what  never  can  be  disciplined,  and 
let  them  not  arm  a  population,  as  we  have  done,  to  commit 
rapine  and  plunder." 

Two  letters  were  already  written,  —  one  addressed  to  Rey, 
the  other  to  Napper  Tandy.  These  I  was  ordered  to  destroy 
if  I  should  happen  to  become  a  prisoner ;  and  with  the  map 
of  Ireland,  pen-marked  in  various  directions  by  which  I 
might  trace  my  route,  and  a  few  lines  to  Colonel  Charost, 
whom  I  was  to  see  on  passing  at  Killala,  I  was  dismissed. 
When  I  approached  the  bed-side  to  take  leave  of  the  general 
he  was  sound  asleep.  The  excitement  of  talking  having 
passed  away,  he  was  pale  as  death,  and  his  lips  totally 
colorless.  Poor  fellow !  he  was  exhausted-looking  and 
weary ;  and  I  could  not  help  thinking,  as  I  looked  on 
him,  that  he  was  no  bad  emblem  of  the  cause  he  had 
embarked  in. 

I  was  to  take  my  troop-horse  as  far  as  Killala,  after  which 
I  was  to  proceed  either  on  foot,  or  by  such  modes  of  con- 
veyance as  I  could  find,  keeping  as  nigh  the  coast  as  pos- 


"THE  MISSION  TO   THE   NORTH."  247 

sible,  and  acquaiuting  myself,  so  far  as  I  might  do,  with  the 
temper  and  disposition  of  the  people  as  1  went.  It  was  a 
great  aid  to  my  sinking  courage  to  know  that  there  really 
was  an  "Army  of  the  North,"  and  to  feel  myself  accredited 
to  hold  intercourse  with  the  generals  commanding  it. 

Such  was  my  exultation  at  this  happy  discovery  that  I 
was  dying  to  burst  in  amongst  my  comrades  with  the  tidings, 
and  proclaim  at  the  same  time  my  own  high  mission.  Mero- 
champ  had  strictly  enjoined  my  speedy  departui*e  without  the 
slightest  intimation  to  any  whither  I  was  going,  or  with  what 
object. 

A  very  small  cloak-bag  held  all  my  effects,  and  with^  this 
slung  at  my  saddle  I  rode  out  of  the  town  just  as  the  church 
clock  was  striking  twelve.  It  was  a  calm,  starlight  night, 
and  once  a  short  distance  from  the  town,  as  noiseless  and 
still  as  possible ;  a  gossoon,  one  of  the  numerous  scouts  we 
employed  in  conveying  letters  or  bringing  intelligence, 
trotted  along  on  foot  beside  me  to  show  the  way,  for  there 
was  a  rumor  that  some  of  the  Royalist  cavalry  still  loitered 
about  the  passes  to  capture  our  despatch  bearers,  or  make 
prisoners  of  any  stragglers  from  the  army. 

These  gossoons,  picked  up  by  chance,  and  selected  for  no 
other  qualification  than  because  they  were  keen-eyed  and 
swift  of  foot,  were  the  most  faithful  and  most  worthy 
creatures  we  met  with.  In  no  instance  were  they  ever 
known  to  desert  to  the  enemy,  and,  stranger  still,  they  were 
never  seen  to  mix  in  the  debauchery  and  excesses  so  common 
to  all  the  volunteers  of  the  rebel  camp.  Their  intelligence 
was  considerable,  and  to  such  a  pitch  had  emulation  stimu- 
lated them  in  the  senice,  that  there  was  no  danger  they 
would  not  incur  in  their  peculiar  duties. 

My  companion  on  the  present  occasion  was  a  little  fellow 
of  about  thirteen  years  of  age,  and  small  and  slight  even  for 
that ;  we  knew  him  as  Peter,  but  whether  he  had  any  other 
name,  or  what,  I  was  ignorant.  He  was  wounded  by  a 
sabre-cut  across  the  hand,  which  nearly  severed  the  fingers 
from  it,  at  the  bridge  of  Castlebar,  but  with  a  strip  of  linen 
bound  round  it  now  he  trotted  along  as  happy  and  careless 
as  if  nothing  ailed  him. 

I  questioned  him  as  we  went,  and  learned  that  his  father 
had  been  a  herd  in  the  service  of  a  certain  Sk  Roger  Palmer, 


248  MAURICE  TIERXAY. 

and  bis  mother  a  claiiymaid  in  the  same  house ;  but  as  the 
patriots  had  sacked  and  burned  the  Castle,  of  course  they 
were  now  upon  the  world.  He  was  a  good  deal  shocked  at 
my  asking  what  part  his  father  took  on  the  occasion  of  the 
attack,  but  for  a  very  different  reason  than  that  which  I 
suspected. 

"For  the  cause,  of  course!"  replied  he,  almost  indig- 
nantly ;  ' '  why  would  n't  he  stand  up  for  ould  Ireland  !  " 

"  And  your  mother  —  what  did  she  do?  " 

He  hung  down  his  head,  and  made  no  answer  till  I 
repeated  the  question. 

"Faix,"  said  he,  slowly  and  sadly,  "  she  went  and  towld 
the  young  ladies  what  was  goin'  to  be  done ;  and  if  it  had  n't 
been  that  the  boys  caught  Tim  Hynes,  the  groom,  going  off 
to  Foxford  with  a  letter,  we  'd  have  had  the  dragoons  down 
upon  us  in  no  time !  They  hanged  Tim,  but  they  let  the 
young  ladies  away,  and  my  mother  with  them,  and  off  they 
all  went  to  Dublin." 

"  And  where 's  your  father  now?  "  I  asked. 

"He  was  drowned  in  the  bay  of  Killala  four  days  ago. 
He  went  with  a  party  of  others  to  take  oatmeal  from  a 
sloop  that  was  wrecked  in  the  bay,  and  an  English  cruiser 
came  in  at  the  time  and  fired  on  them ;  at  the  second 
discharge  the  wreck  and  all  upon  it  went  down !  " 

He  told  all  these  things  without  any  touch  of  sorrow  in 
voice  or  manner.  They  seemed  "to  be  the  ordinary  chances 
of  war,  and  so  he  took  them.  He  had  three  brothers  and 
a  sister ;  of  the  former  two  were  missing,  the  third  was  a 
scout ;  and  the  girl  —  she  was  but  nine  years  old  —  was  wait- 
ing on  a  canteen,  and  mighty  handy,  he  said,  for  she  knew 
a  little  French  already,  and  understood  the  soldiers  when 
they  asked  for  a  goutte^  or  wanted  clu  feu  for  their  pipes. 

Such,  then,  was  the  credit  side  of  the  account  with  For- 
tune, and,  strange  enough,  the  boy  seemed  satisfied  with 
it ;  and  although  a  few  days  had  made  him  an  orphan  and 
houseless,  he  appeared  to  feel  that  the  great  things  in  store 
for  his  country  were  an  ample  recompense  for  all.  Was 
this,  then,  patriotism?  Was  it  possible  that  one,  untaught 
and  unlettered  as  he  was,  could  think  national  freedom  cheap 
at  such  a  cost?  If  I  thought  so  for  n  moment,  a  very  little 
further   inquiry  undeceived    me.     Religious    rancor,    party 


"THE   MISSION  TO   THE  NORTH."  249 

feuds,  the  hate  of  the  Saxon,  —  a  blind  ill-directed,  unthink- 
ing hate,  —  were  the  motives  which  actuated  him.  A  terrible 
retribution  for  something  upon  somebody,  an  awful  wiping 
out  of  old  scores,  a  reversal  of  the  lot  of  rich  and  poor,  were 
the  main  incentives  to  his  actions ;  and  he  was  satisfied  to 
stand  by  at  the  drawing  of  this  great  lottery,  even  without 
holding  a  ticket   in  it ! 

It  was  almost  the  first  moment  of  calm  reflective  thought 
I  had  enjoyed,  as  I  rode  along  thus  in  the  quiet  stillness  of 
the  night,  and  I  own  that  my  heart  began  to  misgive  me  as 
to  the  'great  benefits  of  our  expedition.  I  will  not  conceal 
the  fact  that  I  had  been  disappointed  in  every  expectation  I 
had  formed  of  Ireland. 

The  bleak  and  barren  hills  of  Mayo,  the  dreary  tracts  of 
mountain  and  morass,  were  about  as  unworthy  representa- 
tives of  the  boasted  beauty  and  fertility  of  Ireland,  as  were 
the  half-clad  wretches  who  flocked  around  us  of  that  warlike 
people  of  whom  we  had  heard  so  much.  Where  were  the 
chivalrous  chieftains  with  their  clans  behind  them?  Where 
the  thousands  gathering  around  a  national  standard?  Where 
that  high-souled  patriotism,  content  to  risk  fortune,  station, 
—  all,  in  the  conflict  for  national  independence  ?  A  rabble 
led  on  by  a  few  reckless  debauchees,  and  two  or  three  disre- 
putable or  degraded  priests,  were  our  only  allies ;  and  even 
these  refused  to  be  guided  by  our  counsels  or  swayed  by  our 
authority.  I  half  suspected  Serasin  was  right  when  he  said, 
"  Let  the  Directory  send  thirty  thousand  men  and  make  it  a 
French  province ;  but  let  us  not  fight  an  enemy  to  give  the 
victory  to  the  sans  culottes." 

As  we  neared  the  pass  of  Barnageeragh,  I  turned  one  last 
look  on  the  town  of  Castlebar,  around  which,  at  little  inter- 
vals of  space,  the  watch-fires  of  our  pickets  were  blazing ; 
all  the  rest  of  the  place  was  in  darkness. 

It  was  a  strange  and  a  thrilling  thought  to  think  that 
there,  hundreds  of  miles  from  their  home,  without  one  link 
that  could  connect  them  to  it,  lay  a  little  army  in  the  midst 
of  an  enemy's  country,  calm,  self-possessed,  and  determined. 
How  many,  thought  I,  are  destined  to  leave  it?  How  many 
will  bring  back  to  our  dear  France  the  memory  of  this 
unhappy  struggle? 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A    PASSING   VISIT    TO    KILLALA. 

I  FOUND  a  very  pleasant  party  assembled  around  the  bishop's 
breakfast-table  at  Klllala.  The  bishop  and  his  family  were 
all  there,  with  Charost  and  his  staff,  and  some  three  or  four 
other  officers  from  Ballina.  Nothing  could  be  less  con- 
strained, more  easy,  or  more  agreeable  than  the  tone  of  inti- 
macy which  in  a  few  days  had  grown  up  between  them.  A 
cordial  good  feeling  seemed  to  prevail  on  every  subject,  and 
even  the  resen^e  which  might  be  thought  natural  on  the 
momentous  events  then  happening  was  exchanged  for  a  most 
candid  and  frank  discussion  of  all  that  was  going  forward, 
which,  I  must  own,  astonished  as  much  as  it  gratified  me. 

The  march  on  Castlebar,  the  choice  of  the  mountain-road 
which  led  past  the  position  occupied  by  the  Royalists,  the 
attack  and  capture  of  the  artillery,  had  all  to  be  related  by 
me  for  the  edification  of  such  as  were  not  conversant  with 
French ;  and  I  could  observe  that  however  discomfited  by 
the  conduct  of  the  militia,  they  fully  relied  on  the  regiments 
of  the  line  and  the  artillery.  It  was  amusing,  too,  to  see 
with  what  pleasure  they  listened  to  all  our  disparagement  of 
the  Irish  volunteers. 

Every  instance  we  gave  of  insubordination  or  disobedience 
delighted  them ;  while  our  own  blundering  attempts  to  man- 
age the  people,  the  absurd  mistakes  we  fell  into,  and  the 
endless  misconceptions  of  their  character  and  habits  actually 
convulsed  them  with  laughter. 

"  Of  course,"  said  the  bishop  to  us,  "  you  are  prepared  to 
hear  that  there  is  no  love  lost  between  you,  and  that  they  are 
to  the  full  as  dissatisfied  with  you  as  you  are  dissatisfied 
with  them?" 


A  PASSING   VISIT   TO   KILLALA.  251 

"TTbj^  what  can  they  complain  of?"  asked  Charost, 
smiling ;  "we  gave  them  the  place  of  honor  in  the  very  last 
engagement !  " 

"  VeiT  true,  you  did  so,  and  they  reaped  all  the  profit  of 
the  situation.  Monsieur  Tiernay  has  just  told  the  havoc 
that  grape  and  round-shot  scattered  amongst  the  poor  crea- 
tures. However,  it  is  not  of  this  they  complain ;  it  is  their 
miserable  fare,  the  raw  potatoes,  their  beds  in  open  fields 
and  highwaj^s,  while  the  French,  they  say,  eat  of  the  best 
and  sleep  in  blankets.  They  do  not  understand  this  inequal- 
ity, and  perhaps  it  is  somewhat  hard  to  comprehend." 

"Patriotism  ought  to  be  proud  of  such  little  sacrifices," 
said  Charost,  with  an  easy  laugh;  "besides,  it  is  only  a 
passing  endurance  :  a  month  hence  —  less,  perhaps  —  will 
see  ns  dividing  the  spoils,  and  revelling  in  the  conquest  of 
Ii'ish  independence." 

"You  think  so,  colonel?"  asked  the  bishop,  half  slyly. 

"  Parhleu!  to  be  sure  I  do —  and  you? " 

"I  am  just  as  sanguine,"  said  the  bishop,  "and  fancy 
that  about  a  month  hence  we  shall  be  talking  of  all  these 
things  as  matters  of  history,  and  while  sorrowing  over  some 
of  the  unavoidable  calamities  of  the  event,  presenting  a 
grateful  memory  of  some  who  came  as  enemies  but  left  us 
warm  friends." 

"  If  such  is  to  be  the  turn  of  fortune,"  said  Charost,  with 
more  seriousness  than  before,  "  I  can  only  say  that  the 
kindly  feelings  will  not  be  one-sided." 

And  now  the  conversation  became  an  animated  discussion 
on  the  chances  of  success  or  failure.  Each  party  supported 
his  opinion,  ably  and  eagerly,  and  with  a  degree  of  freedom 
that  was  not  a  little  singular  to  the  bystanders.  At  last, 
when  Charost  was  fairly  answered  by  the  bishop  on  every 
point,  he  asked,  — 

"  But  what  say  you  to  the  Army  of  the  North?  " 

"  Simply,  that  I  do  not  believe  in  such  a  force,"  rejoined 
the  bishop. 

"Not  believe  it!  not  believe  on  what  General  Humbert 
relies  at  this  moment,  and  to  which  that  officer  yonder  is  an 
accredited  messenger !  When  I  tell  you  that  a  most  distin- 
guished Irishman,  Napper  Tandy  —  " 


252  MAURICE   TIEHNAY. 

"  Napper  Tandy!"  repeated  the  bishop,  with  a  good- 
humored  smile,  "  the  name  is  quite  enough  to  relieve  one 
of  any  fears,  if  they  ever  felt  them.  I  am  not  sufficiently 
acquainted  with  your  language  to  give  him  the  epithet  he 
deserves,  but  if  you  can  conceive  an  empty,  conceited  man, 
as  ignorant  of  war  as  of  politics,  rushing  into  a  revolution 
for  the  sake  of  a  green  uniform,  and  ready  to  convulse  a 
kingdom  that  he  may  be  called  a  major-general,  only  enthu- 
siastic in  his  personal  vanity,  and  wanting  even  in  that 
heroic  daring  which  occasionally  dignifies  weak  capacities,  — 
such  is  Napper  Tandy." 

"  What  in  soldier-phrase  we  call  a  '  Blague,'  "  said  Charost, 
laughing  ;   '-'I  'm  sorry  for  it." 

What  turn  the  conversation  was  about  to  take  I  cannot 
guess,  when  it  was  suddenly  inteiTupted  by  one  of  the 
bishop's  sen^ants  rushing  into  the  room,  with  a  face  blood- 
less from  terror.  He  made  his  way  up  to  where  the  bishop 
sat,  and  whispered  a  few  words  in  his  ear. 

"And  how  is  the  wind  blowing,  Andrew?"  asked  the 
bishop,  in  a  voice  that  all  his  self-command  could  not  com- 
pletely steady. 

"From  the  north,  or  the  northwest,  and  mighty  strong, 
too,  my  lord,"  said  the  man,  who  trembled  in  every  limb. 

The  affrighted  aspect  of  the  messenger,  the  excited  expres- 
sion of  the  bishop's  face,  and  the  question  as  to  the 
"wind"  at  once  suggested  to  me  the  idea  that  a  French 
fleet  had  arrived  in  the  bay,  and  that  the  awful  tidings 
were  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  announcement  of  our 
reinforcement. 

"  From  the  northwest,"  repeated  the  bishop  ;  "  then,  with 
God's  blessing,  we  may  be  spared."  And  so  saying,  he 
arose  from  the  table,  and  with  an  effort  that  showed  that  the 
strength  to  do  so  had  only  just  returned  to  him.  "  Colonel 
Charost,  a  word  with  you!  "  said  he,  leading  the  way  into  an 
adjoining  room. 

' '  What  is  it  ?  —  what  has  happened  ?  —  what  can  it  be  ?  " 
was  asked  by  each  in  tm-n.  And  now  groups  gathered  at 
the  windows,  which  all  looked  into  the  court  of  the  building, 
now  crowded  with  people,  soldiers,  servants,  and  country- 
folk, gazing  earnestly  towards  the  roof  of  the  castle. 


A  PASSING  VISIT  TO   KILLALA.  253 

"What's  the  matter,  Terry?"  asked  oue  of  the  bishop's 
sons,  as  he  threw  open  the  window. 

"  'T  is  the  chimbley  on  fire,  Master  Robert,"  said  the  man ; 
"  the  kitchen  chimbley,  wid  those  divils  of  Frinch !  " 

I  cannot  describe  the  burst  of  laughter  that  followed  the 
explanation ! 

So  much  terror  for  so  small  a  catastrophe  was  inconceiv- 
able ;  and  whether  we  thought  of  Andrew's  horrified  face,  or 
the  worthy  bishop's  pious  thanksgiving  as  to  the  direction  of 
the  wind,  we  could  scarcel}^  refrain  from  another  outbreak  of 
mh'th.  Colonel  Charost  made  his  appearance  at  the  instant, 
and  although  his  step  was  hurried  and  his  look  severe,  there 
was  nothing  of  agitation  or  alarm  on  his  features. 

''  Turn  out  the  guard,  Truchet,  without  arms,"  said  he. 
"  Come  with  me,  Tiernay,  —  an  awkward  business  enough," 
whispered  he,  as  he  led  me  along.  "  These  fellows  have  set 
fire  to  the  kitchen  chimney,  and  we  have  three  hundred 
barrels  of  gunpowder  in  the  cave !  " 

Nothing  could  be  more  easy  and  unaffected  than  the  way 
he  spoke  this ;  and  I  actually  stared  at  him,  to  see  if  his 
coolness  was  a  mere  pretence ;  but  far  from  it,  —  every 
gesture  and  every  word  showed  the  most  perfect  self- 
possession,  with  a  prompt  readiness  for  action. 

When  we  reached  the  court  the  bustle  and  confusion  had 
reached  its  highest ;  for,  as  the  wind  lulled,  large  masses  of 
ink}"  smoke  hung  lilve  a  canopy  over  head,  through  which  a 
forked  flame  darted  at  inten'als,  with  that  peculiar  furnace- 
like roar  that  accompanies  a  jet  of  fire  in  confined  places. 
At  times,  too,  as  the  soot  ignited,  great  showers  of  bright 
sparks  floated  upwards,  and  afterwards  fell  like  a  fiery  rain 
on  every  side.  The  country  people,  who  had  flocked  in  from 
the  neighborhood,  were  entkely  occupied  with  these  signs, 
and  only  intent  upon  saving  the  remainder  of  the  house, 
which  they  believed  in  great  peril,  totally  unaware  of  the 
greater  and  more  imminent  danger  close  beside  them. 

Already  they  had  placed  ladders  against  the  walls,  and 
with  ropes  and  buckets  were  preparing  to  ascend,  when 
Truchet  marched  in  with  his  company,  in  fatigue-jackets, 
twenty  sappers  with  shovels  accompanying  them. 

"Clear  the  court-j^ard,  now,"  said  Charost,  "and  leave 
this  matter  to  us." 


254  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

The  order  was  obeyed  somewhat  reluctantly,  it  is  true, 
and  at  last  we  stood  the  sole  occupants  of  the  spot,  —  the 
bishop  being  the  only  civilian  present,  he  having  refused  to 
quit  the  spot,  unless  compelled  by  force. 

The  powder  was  stored  in  a  long  shed  adjoining  the 
stables,  and  originally  used  as  a  shelter  for  farming  tools  and 
utensils.  A  few  tarpaulins  we  had  carried  with  us  from  the 
ships  were  spread  over  the  barrels,  and  on  this  now  some 
sparks  of  fire  had  fallen,  as  the  burning  soot  had  been  carried 
in  by  an  eddy  of  wind. 

The  first  order  was  to  deluge  the  tarpaulins  with  water ; 
and  while  this  was  being  done,  the  sappers  were  ordered  to 
dig  trenches  in  the  garden,  to  receive  the  barrels.  Every 
man  knew  the  terrible  peril  so  near  him,  each  felt  that  at 
any  instant  a  frightful  death  might  overtake  him,  and  yet 
every  detail  of  the  duty  was  carried  on  with  the  coolest 
unconcern ;  and  when  at  last  the  time  came  to  carry  away 
the  barrels,  on  a  species  of  handbarrow,  the  fellows  stepped 
in  time,  as  if  on  the  march,  and  moved  in  measure,  —  a 
degree  of  indifference  which,  to  judge  from  the  good  bishop's 
countenance,  evidently  inspired  as  many  anxieties  for  their 
spiritual  welfare  as  it  suggested  astonishment  and  admira- 
tion for  their  courage.  He  himself,  it  must  be  owned,  dis- 
played no  sign  of  trepidation,  and  in  a  few  words  he  spoke, 
or  the  hints  he  dropped,  exhibited  every  quality  of  a  brave 
man. 

At  moments  the  peril  seemed  very  imminent  indeed. 
Some  timber  having  caught  fire,  slender  fragments  of  burn- 
ing wood  fell  in  masses,  covering  the  men  as  they  went,  and 
falling  on  the  barrels,  whence  the  soldiers  brushed  them  off 
with  cool  indifference.  The  dense,  thick  smoke,  too,  obscur- 
ing every  object  a  few  paces  distant,  added  to  the  confusion  ; 
and  occasionally  bringing  the  going  and  returning  parties 
into  collision,  a  loud  shout,  or  cry,  would  ensue ;  and  it  is 
difficult  to  conceive  how  such  a  sound  thrilled  through  the 
heart  at  such  a  time.  I  own  that  more  than  once  I  felt  a 
choking  fulness  in  the  throat  as  I  heard  a  sudden  3'ell,  it 
seemed  so  like  a  signal  for  destruction.  In  removing  one  of 
the  last  barrels  from  the  hand-barrow  it  slipped,  and  falling 
to  the  ground  the  hoops  gave  way ;  it  burst  open,  and  the 


A  PASSING  VISIT  TO   KILLALA.  255 

powder  fell  out  on  every  side.  The  moment  was  critical,  for 
the  wind  was  battling,  —  now  wafting  the  sparks  clear  awa}^ 
now  whMing  them  in  eddies  around  us.  It  was  then  that  an 
old  sergeant  of  grenadiers  threw  off  his  upper  coat  and 
spread  it  over  the  broken  cask,  while,  with  all  the  composure 
of  a  man  about  to  rest  himself,  he  lay  down  on  it,  while  his 
conu-ades  went  to  fetch  water.  Of  course  his  peril  was  no 
greater  than  that  of  every  one  around  him ;  but  there  was  an 
au-  of  quick  determination  in  his  act  which  showed  the  train- 
ing of  an  old  soldier. 

At  length  the  labor  was  ended,  the  last  barrel  was  com- 
mitted to  the  earth,  and  the  men,  formed  into  line,  were 
ordered  to  wheel  and  march.  Never  shall  I  forget  the 
bishop's  face  as  they  moved  past.  The  undersized  and 
youthful  look  of  our  soldiers  had  acquired  for  them  a  kind  of 
depreciating  estimate  in  comparison  with  the  more  mature 
and  manly  stature  of  the  British  soldier,  to  whom,  indeed, 
they  offered  a  strong  contrast  on  parade ;  but  now,  as  they 
were  seen  in  a  moment  of  arduous  duty,  surrounded  by 
danger,  the  steadiness  and  courage,  the  prompt  obedience  to 
every  command,  the  alacrity  of  their  movements,  and  the 
fearless  intrepidity  with  which  they  performed  every  act 
impressed  the  worthy  bishop  so  forcibly,  that  he  muttered 
half  aloud,   "Thank  Heaven  there  are  but  few  of  them!" 

Colonel  Charost  resisted  steadily  the  bishop's  proffer  to 
afford  the  men  some  refreshment ;  he  would  not  even  admit 
of  an  extra  allowance  of  brandy  to  their  messes.  "If  we 
become  too  liberal  for  slight  sendees,  we  shall  never  be  able 
to  reward  real  ones,"  was  his  answer;  and  the  bishop  was 
reduced  to  the  expedient  of  commemorating  what  he  could 
not  reward.  This,  indeed,  he  did  with  the  most  unqualified 
praise,  —  relating  in  the  drawing-room  all  that  he  had  wit- 
nessed, and  lauding  French  valor  and  heroism  to  the  very 
highest. 

The  better  to  conceal  my  route,  and  to  avoid  the  chances 
of  being  tracked,  I  sailed  that  evening  in  a  fishing-boat  for 
Killybegs,  a  small  harbor  on  the  coast  of  Donegal,  having 
pre\iously  exchanged  my  uniform  for  the  dress  of  a  sailor, 
so  that  if  apprehended  I  should  pretend  to  be  an  Ostend  or 


256  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

Antwerp  seaman,  washed  overboard  in  a  gale  at  sea.  Fortu- 
nately for  me,  I  was  not  called  on  to  perform  this  part,  for  as 
my  nautical  experiences  were  of  the  very  slightest,  I  should 
have  made  a  deplorable  attempt  at  the  impersonation. 
Assuredly  the  fishermen  of  the  smack  would  not  have  been 
among  the  number  of  the  "imposed  upon,"  for  a  more 
seasick  wretch  never  masqueraded  in  a  blue- jacket  than 
I  was. 

My  only  clew  when  I  touched  land  was  a  certain  Father 
Doogan,  who  lived  at  the  foot  of  the  Bluerock  Mountains, 
about  fifteen  miles  from  the  coast,  and  to  whom  I  brought  a 
few  lines  from  one  of  the  Irish  officers,  a  certain  Bourke  of 
Ballina.  The  road  led  in  this  direction,  and  so  little  inter- 
course had  the  shore  folk  with  the  interior  that  it  was  with 
difficulty  any  one  could  be  found  to  act  as  a  guide  thither. 
At  last  an  old  fellow  was  discovered,  who  used  to  travel 
these  mountains  formerly  with  smuggled  tobacco  and  tea; 
and  although,  from  the  discontinuance  of  the  smuggling 
trade  and  increased  age,  he  had  for  some  years  abandoned 
the  line  of  business,  a  liberal  offer  of  payment  induced  him 
to  accompany  me  as  guide. 

It  was  not  without  great  misgivings  that  I  looked  at  the 
very  old  and  almost  decrepit  creature  who  was  to  be  my 
companion  through  a  solitary  mountain   region. 

The  few  stairs  he  had  to  mount  in  the  little  inn  where  I 
put  up  seemed  a  sore  trial  to  his  strength  and  chest ;  but  he 
assured  me  that  once  out  of  the  smoke  of  the  town,  and 
with  his  foot  on  the  "  short  grass  of  the  sheep-patch,"  he'd 
be  like  a  four-year-old  ;  and  his  neighbor  having  corroborated 
the  assertion,  I  was  fain  to  believe  him. 

Determined,  however,  to  make  his  excursion  subsen^ient 
to  profit  in  his  old  vocation,  he  provided  himself  with  some 
pounds  of  tobacco  and  a  little  parcel  of  silk  handkerchiefs, 
to  dispose  of  amongst  the  country-people, — with  which,  and 
a  little  bag  of  meal  slung  at  his  back,  and  a  walking-stick  in 
his  hand,  he  presented  himself  at  my  door  just  as  day  was 
breaking. 

"  AVe '11  have  a  wet  day  I  fear,  Jerry,"  said  I,  looking 
out. 

"Not   a  bit  of  it,"  replied   he.     " 'T  is  the  spring-tides 


A  PASSING  VISIT  TO   KILLALA.  257 

makes  it  cloudy  there  beyant ;  but  wheu  the  sun  gets  up  it 
will  be  a  fine  mornin'.  But  I'm  thiukiu'  ye'r  strange  in 
them  parts  ;  "  and  this  he  said  with  a  keen,  sharp  glance  under 
his  eyes. 

"  Donegal  is  new  to  me,  I  confess,"  said  I,  guardedly. 

''  Yes,  and  the  rest  of  Ireland,  too,"  said  he,  with  a  roguish 
leer.  "  But  come  along,  we  've  a  good  step  before  us  ;  "  and 
with  these  words  he  led  the  way  down  the  stairs,  holding  the 
balustrade  as  he  went,  and  exhibiting  every  sign  of  age  and 
weakness.  Once  in  the  street,  however,  he  stepped  out  more 
freely,  and  before  we  got  clear  of  the  town,  walked  at  a  fair 
pace,  and,  to  all  seeming,  with  perfect  ease. 


17 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A    REMNANT    OF    "  FONTENOY." 

There  was  no  resisting  the  inquisitive  curiosity  of  my  com- 
panion. The  short  dry  cough,  the  little  husky  "ay,"  that 
sounded  like  anything  rather  than  assent,  which  followed  on 
my  replies  to  his  questions,  and  more  than  all  the  keen, 
oblique  glances  of  his  shrewd  gray  eyes  told  me  that  I  had 
utterly  failed  in  all  my  attempts  at  mystification,  and  that  he 
read  me  through  and  through. 

"And  so,"  said  he,  at  last,  after  a  somewhat  lengthy 
narrative  of  my  shipwreck,  "  and  so  the  Flemish  sailors  wear 
spm-s?  " 

"Spurs!  of  course  not;  why  should  they?"  asked  I  in 
some  astonishment. 

"  Well,  but  don't  they?  "  asked  he  again. 

"  No  such  thing ;  it  would  be  absurd  to  suppose  it." 

"  So  I  thought,"  rejoined  he ;  "  and  when  I  looked  at  yer 
honor's  boots  [it  was  the  first  time  he  had  addressed 
me  by  this  title  of  deference],  and  saw  the  marks  on  the 
heels  for  spurs,  I  soon  knew  how  much  of  a  sailor  you 
were." 

"And  if  not  a  sailor,  what  am  I,  then?  "  asked  I;  for  in 
the  loneliness  of  the  mountain  region  where  we  walked,  I 
could  afford  to  throw  off  my  disguise  without  risk. 

"  Ye  'r  a  French  officer  of  dragoons,  and  God  bless  ye  !  but 
ye  'r  young  to  be  at  the  trade.     Ar'  n't  I  right,  now?  " 

"  Not  very  far  from  it,  certainly,  for  I  am  a  lieutenant  of 
hussars,"  said  I,  with  a  little  of  that  pride  which  we  of  the 
loose  pelisse  always  feel  on  the  mention  of  our  corps. 

"  I  knew  it  well  all  along,"  said  he,  coolly ;  "  the  way  you 
stood  in  the  room,  your  step  as  you  walked,  and,  above  all, 
how  ye  believed  me  when  I  spoke  of  the  spring-tides,  and 
the  moon  only  in  her  second  quarter,  I  saw  you  never  was  a 


A  REMNANT  OF   "FONTENOY."  259 

sailor,  anyhow.  And  so  I  set  a  thinking  what  you  were. 
You  were  too  silent  for  a  pedler,  and  your  hands  were  too 
white  to  be  in  the  smuggling  trade ;  but  when  I  saw  your 
boots,  I  had  the  secret  at  once,  and  knew  ye  were  one  of  the 
French  army  that  landed  the  other  day  at  Killala." 

''  It  was  stupid  enough  of  me  not  to  have  remembered  the 
boots  !  "  said  I,  laughing. 

"  Arrah,  what  use  would  it  be?  "  replied  he  ;  "  sure  ye  'r 
too  straight  in  the  back,  and  your  walk  is  too  reg'lar,  and 
your  toes  turns  in  too  much,  for  a  sailor ;  the  very  way  you 
hould  a  switch  in  your  hand  would  betray  you !  " 

"So  it  seems,  then,  I  must  try  some  other  disguise," 
said  I,  "if  I  'm  to  keep  company  with  people  as  shrewd  as 
you  are." 

"  Y^'ou  needn't,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head  doubtfully; 
"  any  that  wants  to  betray  ye  would  n't  find  it  hard." 

I  was  not  much  flattered  by  the  depreciating  tone  in  which 
he  dismissed  my  efforts  at  personation,  and  walked  on  for 
some  time  without  speaking. 

"  l^ez  came  too  late,  four  months  too  late,"  said  he,  with 
a  sorrowful  gesture  of  the  hands.  "  When  the  AVexford 
boys  was  up,  and  the  Kildare  chaps,  and  plenty  more  ready 
to  come  in  from  the  North,  then,  indeed,  a  few  thousand 
French  down  here  in  the  West  would  have  made  a  differ ; 
but  what 's  the  good  in  it  now  ?  The  best  men  we  had  are 
hanged  or  in  jail ;  some  are  frightened ;  more  are  traitors. 
'T  is  too  late,  too  late  !  " 

"  But  not  too  late  for  a  large  force  landing  in  the  North, 
to  rouse  the  island  to  another  effort  for  liberty." 

"  Who  would  be  the  gin'ral?  "  asked  he,  suddenly. 

"  Napper  Tandy,  j^our  own  countryman,"  replied  I, 
proudly. 

"I  wish  ye  luck  of  him!  "  said  he,  with  a  bitter  laugh; 
"'tis  more  like  mocking  us  than  anything  else  the  French 
does  be,  with  the  chaps  they  send  here  to  be  gin'rals.  Sure 
it  is  n't  Napper  Tandy,  nor  a  set  of  young  lawyers  like  Tone 
and  the  rest  of  them  we  wanted.  It  was  men  that  knew 
how  to  drill  and  manage  troops,  —  fellows  that  was  used  to 
fightin' ;  so  that  when  they  said  a  thing,  we  might  believe 
that   thev   understhood   it   at   laste.     I  'm   ould   enough  to 


260  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

remimber  the  '  Wild  Geese,'  as  they  used  to  call  them,  —  the 
fellows  that  ran  away  from  this  to  take  sarvice  in  France ; 
and  I  remimber,  too,  the  sort  of  men  the  French  were  that 
came  over  to  inspect  them,  —  soldiers,  real  soldiers,  every 
inch  of  them.  And  a  tine  sarvice  it  was.  Volte-face  I  " 
cried  he,  holding  himself  erect,  and  shouldering  his  stick 
like  a  musket,  ^'' marche !  Ha,  ha!  ye  didn't  think  that 
was  in  me ;  but  I  was  at  the  thrade  long  before  you  were 
born." 

''  How  is  this?  "  said  I,  in  amazement ;  "  you  were  not  in 
the  French  army?  " 

"Wasn't  I,  though?  Maybe  I  didn't  get  that  stick 
there !  "  And  he  bared  his  breast  as  he  spoke,  to  show  the 
cicatrix  of  an  old  flesh-wound  from  a  Highlander's  bayonet. 
"  I  was  at  Fontenoy  !  " 

The  last  few  words  he  uttered  with  a  triumphant  pride 
that  I  shall  never  forget.  As  for  me,  the  mere  name  was 
magical.  "Fontenoy"  was  like  one  of  those  great  words 
which  light  up  a  whole  page  of  history ;  and  it  almost  seemed 
impossible  that  I  should  see  before  me  a  soldier  of  that 
glorious  battle. 

"Ay,  faith!"  he  added,  "'tis  more  than  fifty,  'tis  nigh 
sixty  years  now  since  that,  and  I  remember  it  as  if  it  w^as 
yesterday.  I  was  in  the  regiment  Tourville  ;  I  was  recruited 
for  the  Dillon,  but  they  scattered  us  about  among  the  other 
corps  afterwards,  because  we  used  now  and  then  to  be  fight- 
ing and  quarrellin'  among  one  another.  Well,  it  was  the 
Dillons  that  gained  the  battle ;  for  after  the  English  was  in 
the  village  of  Fontenoy,  and  the  French  was  falling  back 
upon  the  heights  near  the  wood  —  arrah,  what 's  the  name  of 
the  wood?  Sure,  I'll  forget  my  own  name  next.  Ay,  to 
be  sure,  Verzon,  —  the  Wood  of  Yerzon.  Major  Jodillon  — 
that's  what  the  French  called  him,  but  his  name  was  Joe 
Dillon  —  turned  an  eight-pounder  short  round  into  a  little 
yard  of  a  farm-house,  and  making  a  breach  for  the  gun  he 
opened  a  dreadful  fire  on  the  English  column.  It  was  loaded 
with  grape,  and  at  half-musket  range;  so  you  may  think 
what  a  peppering  they  got.  At  last  the  column  halted  and 
lay  down,  and  Joe  seen  an  officer  ride  off  to  the  rear  to 
bring  up  artillery  to  silence  our  guns.     A  few  minutes  more 


A  REMNANT  OF    "FONTENOY."  261 

and  it  would  be  all  over  with  us.  So  Joe  shouts  out  as  loud 
as  he  could,  '  Cavalry,  there !  tell  off  by  threes,  and  prepare 
to  charge  !  '  I  need  n't  tell  you  that  the  divil  a  horse  nor  a 
rider  was  within  a  mile  of  us  at  the  time ;  but  the  English 
did  n't  know  that ;  and,  hearin'  the  order,  up  they  jumps,  and 
we  heerd  the  word  passin',  '  Prepare  to  receive  cavalry ! ' 
They  formed  square  at  once,  and  the  same  minute  we  plumped 
into  them  with  such  a  charge  as  tore  a  lane  right  through 
the  middle  of  them.  Before  the}'  could  recover,  we  opened 
a  platoon  fire  on  their  flank ;  they  staggered,  broke,  and  at 
last  fell  back  in  disorder  upon  Aeth,  with  the  whole  of  the 
French  army  after  them.  Such  firin'  —  grape,  round-shot, 
and  musketry  —  I  never  seed  afore,  and  we  all  shouting  like 
divils,  for  it  was  more  like  a  hunt  nor  anything  else  ;  for  ye 
see  the  Dutch  never  came  up,  but  left  the  English  to  do  all 
the  work  themselves,  and  that 's  the  reason  they  could  n't 
form,  for  they  had  no  supportin'  colum'. 

' '  It  was  then  I  got  that  stick  of  the  bayonet,  for  there 
was  such  runnin'  that  we  only  thought  of  pelting  after  them 
as  hard  as  we  could  ;  but  ye  see,  there  's  nothin'  so  treacherous 
as  a  Highlander.  I  was  just  behind  one,  and  had  my  sword- 
point  between  his  bladebones  ready  to  run  him  through,  when 
he  turned  short  about,  and  run  his  bayonet  into  me  under  the 
short  ribs  ;  and  that  was  all  I  saw  of  the  battle,  for  I  bled  till 
I  fainted,  and  never  knew  more  of  what  happened.  'T  is  n't 
by  way  of  making  little  of  Frenchmen  I  say  it,  for  I  sanded 
too  long  wid  them  for  that ;  but  sorra  taste  of  that  victory 
ever  they'd  see  if  it  wasn't  for  the  Dillons,  and  Major  Joe 
that  commanded  them !  The  English  knows  it  well,  too ! 
Maybe  they  don't  do  us  many  a  spite  for  it  to  this  very 
day !  " 

"  And  what  became  of  you  after  that?  '' 

"That  same  summer  I  came  over  to  Scotland  with  the 
young  Prince  Charles,  and  was  at  the  battle  of  Prestonpans 
afterwards  ;  and,  what's  worse,  I  was  at  Culloden  !  Oh,  that 
was  the  terrible  day !  We  were  dead  bate  before  we  began 
the  battle.  We  were  on  the  march  from  one  o'clock  the 
night  before,  under  the  most  dreadful  rain  ever  ye  seen! 
We  lost  our  way  twice,  and  after  four  hours  of  hard  march- 
ing we  found  ourselves  opposite  a  mill-dam  we  crossed  early 


262  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

that  same  morning ;  for  the  guides  led  us  all  astray  !  Then 
came  ordhers  to  wheel  about  face  and  go  back  again ;  and 
back  we  went,  cursing  the  blaguards  that  deceaved  us,  and 
almost  faiutin'  with  hunger.  Some  of  us  had  nothing  to  eat 
for  two  days,  and  the  Prince,  I  seen  myself,  had  only  a  brown 
bannock  to  a  wooden  measure  of  whisky  for  his  own  break- 
fast. Well,  it 's  no  use  talking ;  we  were  bate,  and  we 
retreated  to  Inverness  that  night,  and  next  morning  we  sur- 
rendered and  laid  down  our  arms,  —  that  is  the  Regiment 
du  Tournay  and  the  Voltigeurs  de  Metz,  the  corps  I  was 
in  myself." 

' '  And  did  you  return  to  France  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  made  my  way  back  to  Ii'eland,  and  after  loiterin' 
about  home  some  time,  and  not  liking  the  ways  of  turning  to 
work  again,  I  took  sarvice  with  one  Mister  Brooke,  of  Castle 
Brooke,  in  Fermanagh,  —  a  young  man  that  was  just  come 
of  age,  and  as  great  a  divil,  God  forgive  me,  as  ever  was 
spawned.  He  was  a  Protestant,  but  he  didn't  care  much 
about  one  side  or  the  other,  but  only  wanted  divarsion  and 
his  own  fun  out  of  the  world  ;  and  faix  he  took  it,  too  !  He 
had  plenty  of  money,  was  a  fine  man  to  look  at,  and  had 
courage  to  face  a  lion ! 

"  The  first  place  we  went  to  was  Aix-la-Chapelle,  for  Mr. 
Brooke  was  named  something  —  I  forget  what  —  to  Lord 
Sandwich,  that  was  going  there  as  an  ambassador.  It  was 
a  grand  life  there  while  it  lasted.  Such  liveries,  such 
coaches,  such  elegant  dinners  every  day,  I  never  saw  even 
in  Paris.  But  my  master  was  soon  sent  away  for  a  piece  of 
wildness  he  did.  There  was  an  ould  Austrian  there,  a 
Count  Riedensegg  was  his  name  ;  and  he  was  always  plottin' 
and  schamin'  with  this,  that,  and  the  other,  buyin'  up  the 
sacrets  of  others,  and  gettin'  at  their  private  papers  one  way 
or  the  other.  And  at  last  he  begins  to  thry  the  same  game 
with  us ;  and  as  he  saw  that  Mr.  Brooke  was  very  fond  of 
high  play,  and  would  bet  anything  one  offered  him,  the  ould 
count  sends  for  a  great  gambler  from  Vienna,  the  greatest 
\illain,  they  say,  that  ever  touched  a  card.  Ye  may  have 
heerd  of  him,  tho'  'twas  long  ago  that  he  lived,  for  he  was 
well  known  in  them  times.  He  was  the  Baron  von  Brecken- 
dorf ,  and  a  great  friend  aftei-wards  of  the  Prince  Ragint  and 
all  the  other  blasruards  in  London. 


A  REMNANT  OF   "FONTENOY."  263 

"  Well,  sii',  the  baron  arrives  in  great  state,  with  despatches, 
they  said ;  but  sorrow  other  despatch  he  carried  nor  some 
packs  of  marked  cards,  and  a  dice-box  that  could  throw  sixes 
whenever  ye  wanted ;  and  he  puts  up  at  the  Grand  Hotel, 
with  all  his  sel•^^ants  in  fine  liveries  and  as  much  state  as  a 
prince.  That  very  day  Mr.  Brooke  dined  with  the  count, 
and  in  the  evening  himself  and  the  baron  sits  down  to  the 
cards ;  and,  pretending  to  be  only  playin'  for  silver,  they 
were  bettin'  a  hundred  guineas  on  every  game. 

' '  I  always  heerd  that  my  master  was  'cute  with  the  cards, 
and  that  few  was  equal  to  him  in  any  game  with  pasteboard 
or  ivory ;  but,  be  my  conscience,  he  met  his  match  now,  for 
if  it  was  ould  Nick  was  playin'  he  couldn't  do  the  thrick 
nater  nor  the  baron.  He  made  everything  come  up  just  like 
magic;  if  he  wanted  a  seven  of  diamonds  or  an  ace  of 
spades  or  the  knave  of  clubs,  there  it  was  for  you. 

"  Most  gentlemen  would  have  lost  temper  at  seein'  the 
luck  so  dead  agin'  them,  and  everything  goin'  so  bad ;  but 
my  master  only  smiled,  and  kept  muttering  to  himself, 
'  Faix,  it 's  beautiful !  by  my  conscience,  it 's  elegant !  I 
never  saw  anybody  could  do  it  like  that.'  At  last  the  baron 
stops  and  asks,  '  What  is  it  he  *s  saying  to  himself?  '  '  I  '11 
tell  you  by  and  by,'  says  my  master,  '  when  we  're  done  play- 
ing ; '  and  so  on  they  went,  betting  higher  and  higher,  till  at 
last  the  stakes  was  n't  very  far  from  a  thousand  pounds  on  a 
single  card.  At  the  end,  Mr.  Brooke  lost  everything ;  and 
in  the  last  game,  by  way  of  generosity,  the  baron  says  to 
him,  'Double  or  quit? '  and  he  tuk  it. 

"  This  time  luck  stood  to  my  master,  and  he  turned  the 
queen  of  hearts  ;  and  as  there  was  only  one  card  could  beat 
him,  the  game  was  all  as  one  as  his  own.  The  baron  takes 
up  the  pack,  and  begins  to  deal.  '  Wait,'  says  my  master, 
leaning  over  the  table,  and  talking  in  a  whisper ;  '  wait,'  says 
he ;  '  what  are  ye  doin'  there  wid  your  thumb  ? '  for  sure 
enough  he  had  his  thumb  dug  hard  into  the  middle  of  the 
pack. 

"  '  Do  you  mane  to  insult  me?'  says  the  baron,  getting 
mighty  red,  and  throwing  down  the  cards  on  the  table.  '  Is 
that  what  you  're  at  ?  ' 

"  'Go  on  with  the  deal,'  says  Mr.  Brooke,  quietly;   '  but 


264  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

listen  to  me,'  and  here  he  dropped  his  voice  to  a  whisper,  '  as 
sure  as  you  turn  the  king  of  hearts  I  '11  send  a  bullet  through 
your  skull !  Go  on,  now,  and  don't  rise  from  that  seat  till 
you've  finished  the  game.'  Faix,  he  just  did  as  he  was  bid  ; 
he  turned  a  little  two  or  three  of  diamonds,  and  gettin'  up 
from  the  table  he  left  the  room,  and  the  next  morning  there 
was  no  more  seen  of  him  in  Aix-la-Chapelle.  But  that 
was  n't  the  end  of  it ;  for  scarce  was  the  baron  two  posts 
on  his  journey  when  my  master  sends  in  his  name,  and  says 
he  wants  to  speak  to  Count  Riedensegg.  There  was  a  long 
time  and  a  great  debatin',  I  believe,  whether  they'd  let  him 
in  or  not,  for  the  count  could  n't  make  if  it  was  mischief  he 
was  after ;  but  at  last  he  was  ushered  into  the  bedroom  where 
the  other  was  in  bed. 

"  '  Count,'  says  he,  after  he  fastened  the  door,  and  saw  that 
they  was  alone,  '  Count,  you  tried  a  dirty  thrick  with  that 
duty  spalpeen  of  a  baron,  —  an  ould  blaguard  that's  as  well 
known  as  Freeny  the  robber,  —  but  I  forgive  you  for  it  all, 
for  you  did  it  in  the  way  of  business.  I  know  well  what  you 
was  afther ;  you  wanted  a  peep  at  our  despatches.  There, 
ye  need  n't  look  cross  and  angry  !  Why  would  n't  ye  do  it, 
just  as  the  baron  always  took  a  sly  glance  at  my  cards  before 
he  played  his  own?  Well,  now,  I'm  just  in  the  humor  to 
sai-ve  you.  They  're  not  trating  me  as  they  ought  here,  and 
I  'm  going  away ;  and  if  you  '11  give  me  a  few  letthers  to 
some  of  the  pretty  women  in  Vienna,  —  Katinka  Batthyani 
and  Amalia  Gradoffsky,  and  one  or  two  men  in  the  best  set, 
—  I  '11  send  you  in  return  something  will  surprise  you.' 

"  It  was  after  a  long  time  and  great  batin'  about  the  bush, 
that  the  ould  count  came  in ;  but  the  sight  of  a  sacret  cypher 
did  the  business,  and  he  consented. 

"  '  There  it  is,'  says  Mr.  Brooke,  '  there's  the  whole  key 
to  our  coiTespondence ;  study  it  well,  and  I  '11  bring  you  a 
sacret  despatch  in  the  evening,  —  something  that  will  surprise 
you.' 

"  '  Ye  will,  will  ye? '  says  the  count. 

"  '  On  the  honor  of  an  Irish  gentleman,  I  will,'  says  Mr. 
Brooke. 

''  The  count  sits  down  on  the  spot  and  writes  the  letters 
to  all  the  prencesses  and  countesses  in  Vienna,  saying  that 


A  REMNANT   OF  "FONTENOY."  265 

Mr.  Brooke  was  the  elegantest  and  politest  and  most  trusty 
young  gentleman  ever  he  met ;  and  telling  them  to  treat  him 
with  every  consideration. 

"  '  There  will  be  another  account  of  me,'  says  the  master 
to  me,  '  by  the  post ;  but  I  '11  travel  faster,  and  give  me  a 
fair  start,  and  I  ask  no  more.' 

"  And  he  was  as  good  as  his  word,  for  he  started  that 
evening  for  Vienna  without  lave  or  license ;  and  that 's  the 
way  he  got  dismissed  from  his  situation." 

' '  And  did  he  break  his  promise  to  the  count,  or  did  he 
really  send  him  any  intelligence  ?  " 

''  He  kept  his  word,  like  a  gentleman.  He  promised  him 
something  that  would  surprise  him,  and  so  he  did.  He  sent 
him  the  weddin'  of  Ballyporeen  in  cypher.  It  took  a  week 
to  make  out,  and  I  suppose  they  've  never  got  to  the  right 
understandin'  it  yet." 

"I'm  curious  to  hear  how  he  was  received  in  Vienna, 
after  this,"  said  I.  "I  suppose  you  accompanied  him  to 
that  city  ?  " 

"  Troth  I  did,  and  a  short  life  we  led  there.  But  here  we 
are  now,  at  the  end  of  our  journey.  That 's  Father  Doogan's 
down  there,  —  that  small,  low,  thatched  house  in  the 
hollow." 

"  A  lonely  spot,  too.  I  don't  see  another  near  it  for  miles 
on  any  side." 

"Nor  is  there.  His  chapel  is  at  Murrah,  about  three 
miles  off.  My  eyes  is  n't  over  good ;  but  I  don't  think 
there  's   any  smoke  coming  out  of  the   chimley." 

"  You  are  right ;  there  is  not." 

"  He 's  not  at  home,  then,  and  that 's  a  bad  job  for  us  ;  for 
there 's  not  another  place  to  stop  the  night  in." 

"  But  there  will  be  surely  some  one  in  the  house." 

"  Most  likely  not;  'tis  a  brat  of  a  boy  from  Murrah  does 
be  with  him  when  he  's  at  home,  and  I  'm  sure  he  's  not  there 
now." 

This  reply  was  not  very  cheering,  nor  was  the  prospect 
itself  much  brighter.  The  solitary  cabin,  to  which  we  were 
approaching,  stood  in  a  rugged  glen,  the  sides  of  which  were 
covered  with  a  low  furze,  intermixed  here  and  there  with 
the  scrub  of  what  once  had  been  an  oak  forest.     A  brown. 


266  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

mournful  tint  was  over  ever3^thing,  sky  and  landscape  alike ; 
and  even  the  little  stream  of  clear  water  that  wound  its  twin- 
ing course  along  took  the  same  color  from  the  gravelly  bed  it 
flowed  over.  Not  a  cow  nor  sheep  was  to  be  seen,  nor  even 
a  bird ;  all  was  silent  and  still. 

"There's  few  would  like  to  pass  theii'  lives  down  there, 
then !  "  said  my  companion,  as  if  speaking  to  himself. 

"  I  suppose  the  priest,  like  a  soldier,  has  no  choice  in  these 
matters." 

"  Sometimes  he  has,  though.  Father  Doogan  might  have 
had  the  pick  of  the  county,  they  say ;  but  he  chose  this  little 
quiet  spot  here.  He  's  a  friar  of  some  ordher  abroad,  and 
when  he  came  over,  two  or  three  years  ago,  he  could  only 
spake  a  little  Irish,  and,  I  believe,  less  English;  but  there 
wasn't  his  equal  for  other  tongues  in  all  Europe.  They 
wanted  him  to  stop  and  be  the  head  of  a  college  somewhere 
in  Spain,  but  he  would  n't.  '  There  was  work  to  do  in  Ii'e- 
land,'  he  said,  and  there  he  'd  go,  and  to  the  wildest  and 
laste  civilized  bit  of  it  besides ;  and  ye  see  that  he  was  not 
far  out  in  his  choice  when  he  took  Murrah." 

"Is  he  miuch  liked  here  by  the  people ? " 

"  They  'd  worship  him  if  he  'd  let  them,  that 's  what  it  is  ; 
for  if  he  has  more  larnin'  and  knowledge  in  his  head  than 
ever  a  bishop  in  Ireland,  there  's  not  a  child  in  the  barony 
his  equal  for  simplicity.  He  that  knows  the  names  of  the 
stars  and  what  they  do  be  doing,  and  where  the  world's 
going  and  what 's  comin'  afther  her,  has  n't  a  thought  for  the 
wickedness  of  this  life  no  more  than  a  sucking  infant !  He 
could  tell  you  every  crop  to  put  in  your  ground  from  this  to 
the  day  of  judgment,  and  I  don't  think  he  'd  know  which  end 
of  the  spade  goes  into  the  ground." 

While  we  were  thus  talking,  we  reached  the  door,  which,  as 
well  as  the  windows,  was  closely  barred  and  fastened.  The 
great  padlock  however  on  the  former,  with  characteristic 
acuteness,  was  locked  without  being  hasped ;  so  that  in  a  few 
seconds  my  old  guide  had  undone  all  the  fastenings,  and  we 
found  ourselves  under  shelter. 

A  roomy  kitchen,  with  a  few  cooking  utensils,  formed  the 
entrance  hall ;  and  as  a  small  supply  of  turf  stood  in  one 
corner,  my  companion  at  once  proceeded  to  make  a  fire,  con- 


A  REMNANT  OF   ''FONTENOY."  267 

gratulating  me  as  he  went  on  with  the  fact  of  our  being 
housed,  for  a  long- threatening  thunderstorm  had  already 
burst,  and  the  rain  was  now  swooping  along  in  torrents. 

While  he  was  thus  busied,  I  took  a  ramble  through  the 
little  cabin,  curious  to  see  something  of  the  "interior"  of 
one  whose  life  had  akeady  interested  me.  There  were  but 
two  small  chambers,  one  at  either  side  of  the  kitchen.  The 
first  I  entered  was  a  bedroom,  —  the  only  furniture  being  a 
common  bed,  or  a  tressel  like  that  of  a  hospital,  a  little 
colored  print  of  St.  Michael  adorning  the  wall  overhead. 
The  bed-covering  was  cleanly,  but  patched  in  many  places 
and  bespeaking  much  poverty,  and  the  black  soutane  of  silk 
that  hung  against  the  wall  seemed  to  show  long  years  of 
service.  The  few  articles  of  any  pretensions  to  comfort  were 
found  in  the  sitting-room,  where  a  small  book-shelf  with 
some  well-thumbed  volumes,  and  a  writing  table  covered 
with  papers,  maps,  and  a  few  pencil-drawings,  appeared. 
All  seemed  as  if  he  had  just  quitted  the  spot  a  few  minutes 
before  i  the  pencil  lay  across  a  half-finished  sketch ;  two  or 
three  wild  plants  were  laid  within  the  leaves  of  a  little  book 
on  botany ;  and  a  chess  problem,  with  an  open  book  beside 
it,  still  waited  for  solution  on  a  little  board,  whose  workman- 
ship clearly  enough  betrayed  it  to  be  by  his  own  hands. 

I  inspected  everything  with  an  interest  inspu'ed  by  all  I 
had  been  hearing  of  the  poor  priest,  and  turned  over  the 
little  volumes  of  his  humble  library  to  trace,  if  I  might,  some 
clew  to  his  habits  in  his  readings.  They  were  all,  however, 
of  one  cast  and  character,  — religious  tracts  and  offices, 
covered  with  annotations  and  remarks,  and  showing  by  many 
signs  the  most  careful  and  frequent  perusal.  It  was  easy  to 
see  that  his  taste  for  drawing  or  for  chess  was  the  only 
dissipation  he  permitted  himself  to  indulge.  What  a  strange 
life  of  privation,  thought  I,  alone  and  companionless  as  he 
must  be !  and  while  speculating  on  the  sense  of  duty  which 
impelled  such  a  man  to  accept  a  post  so  humble  and  unprom- 
ising, I  perceived  that  on  the  wall  right  opposite  to  me 
there  hung  a  picture,  covered  by  a  little  curtain  of  green 
silk. 

Curious  to  behold  the  saintly  effigy  so  carefully  enshrined, 
I  drew  aside  the  curtain  ;  and  what  was  my  astonishment  to 


268  '      MAURICE    TIERNAY. 

find  a  little  colored  sketch  of  a  boy  about  twelve  years  old, 
dressed  in  the  tawdry  and  much-worn  uniform  of  a  drummer ! 
I  started.  Something  flashed  suddenly  across  my  mind  that 
the  features,  the  dress,  the  aii-,  were  not  unknown  to  me. 
Was  I  awake,  or  were  my  senses  misleading  me?  I  took  it 
down  and  held  it  to  the  light,  and  as  well  as  my  trembling 
hands  permitted  I  spelled  out,  at  the  foot  of  the  drawing,  the 
words,  "  Le  Petit  Maurice,  as  I  saw  him  last."  Yes  !  it  was  my 
own  portrait,  and  the  words  were  in  the  writing  of  my  dearest 
friend  in  the  world,  the  Pere  Michel !  Scarce  knowing  what 
I  did,  I  ransacked  books  and  papers  on  every  side  to  confirm 
my  suspicions ;  and  although  his  name  was  nowhere  to  be 
found,  I  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  his  hand,  now  so 
forcibly  recalled  to  my  memory. 

Hastening  into  the  kitchen,  I  told  my  guide  that  I  must 
set  out  to  Murrah  at  once ;  that  it  was  above  all  important 
that  I  should  see  the  priest  immediately.  It  was  in  vain  that 
he  told  me  he  was  unequal  to  the  fatigue  of  going  farther, 
that  the  storm  was  increasing,  the  mountain  torrents  were 
swelling  to  a  formidable  size,  that  the  path  could  not  be  dis- 
covered after  dark  ;  I  could  not  brook  the  thought  of  delay, 
and  would  not  listen  to  the  detail  of  difficulties.  "I  must 
see  him  and  I  will,"  were  my  answers  to  ever}^  obstacle.  If 
I  were  resolved  on  one  side  he  was  no  less  obstinate  on  the 
other ;  and  after  explaining  with  patience  all  the  dangers  and 
hazards  of  the  attempt,  and  still  finding  me  unconvinced,  he 
boldly  declared  that  I  might  go  alone  if  I  would,  but  that 
he  would  not  leave  the  shelter  of  a  roof  such  a  night  for  any 
one. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  shape  of  an  argument  I  did  not 
essay.  I  tried  bribery,  I  tried  menace,  flattery,  intimidation, 
all,  —  and  all  with  the  like  result.  "  Wherever  he  is  to-night, 
he  '11  not  leave  it,  that 's  certain,"  was  the  only  satisfaction  he 
would  vouchsafe ;  and  I  retired  beaten  from  the  contest,  and 
disheartened.  Twice  I  left  the  cottage,  resolved  to  go  alone 
and  unaccompanied ;  but  the  utter  darkness  of  the  night,  the 
torrents  of  rain  that  beat  against  my  face,  soon  showed  me 
the  impracticability  of  the  attempt,  and  I  retraced  my  steps 
crest-fallen  and  discomfited.  The  most  intense  curiosity  to 
know  how  and  by  what  chances  the  Pere  had  come  to  Ireland 


A  REIMNANT  OF  "FONTENOY."  269 

mingled  with  my  ardent  desire  to  meet  him.  What  stores 
of  reminiscence  had  we  to  interchange  !  Nor  was  it  without 
pride  that  I  bethought  me  of  the  position  I  then  held,  —  an 
officer  of  a  hussar  regiment,  a  soldier  of  more  than  one 
campaign,  and  high  on  the  list  for  promotion.  If  I  hoped, 
too,  that  many  of  the  good  father's  prejudices  against  the 
career  I  followed  would  give  way  to  the  records  of  my  own 
past  life,  I  also  felt  how,  in  various  respects,  I  had  myself 
conformed  to  many  of  his  notions.  We  should  be  dearer, 
closer  friends  than  ever.     This  I  knew  and  was  sure  of. 

I  never  slept  the  whole  night  through ;  tired  and  weary  as 
the  day's  journey  had  left  me,  excitement  was  still  too  strong 
for  repose,  and  I  walked  up  and  down,  lay  for  half  an  hour  on 
my  bed,  rose  to  look  out,  and  peer  for  coming  dawn.  Never 
did  houi'S  lag  so  lazily.  The  darkness  seemed  to  last  for  an 
eternity,  and  when  at  last  day  did  break,  it  was  through  the 
lowering  gloom  of  skies  still  charged  with  rain  and  an 
atmosphere  loaded  with  vapor. 

"  This  is  a  day  for  the  chimney  corner,  and  thankful  to  have 
it  we  ought  to  be,"  said  my  old  guide,  as  he  replenished  the 
turf  fire,  at  which  he  was  preparing  our  breakfast.  "  Father 
Doogan  will  be  home  here  afore  night,  I  'm  sure  ;  and  as  we 
have  nothing  better  to  do,  I  '11  tell  you  some  of  our  old  adven- 
tures when  I  lived  with  Mr.  Brooke.  'Twill  sarve  to  pass 
the  time,  any  way." 

"  I'm  off  to  Murrah,  as  soon  as  I  have  eaten  something," 
replied  I. 

"  'T  is  little  you  know  what  a  road  it  is,"  said  he,  smiling 
dubiously.  "  'T  is  four  mountain  rivers  you  'd  have  to  cross, 
two  of  them,  at  least,  deeper  than  ^^our  head ;  and  there's  the 
pass  of  Barnascorney,  where  you  'd  have  to  turn  the  side  of  a 
mountain,  with  a  precipice  hundreds  of  feet  below  you,  and  a 
wind  blowing  that  would  wreck  a  seventy-f om- !  There 's 
never  a  man  in  the  barony  would  venture  over  the  same  path, 
with  a  storm  ragin'  from  the  nor' west." 

"  I  never  heard  of  a  man  being  blown  away  off  a  mountain," 
said  I,  laughing  contemptuously. 

"  Arrah,  didn't  ye,  then?  Then  maybe  ye  never  lived  in 
parts  where  the  heaviest  ploughs  and  harrows  that  can  be 
laid  in  the  thatch  of  a  cabin  are  flung  here  and  there  like 


270  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

straws,  and  the  strongest  timbers  torn  out  of  the  walls,  and 
scattered  for  miles  along  the  coast  like  the  spars  of  a 
shipwreck." 

"  But  so  long  as  a  man  has  hands  to  grip  with  —  " 

' '  How  ye  talk  !  sure  when  the  wind  can  tear  the  strongest 
trees  up  by  the  roots ;  when  it  rolls  big  rocks  fifty  and  a 
hundred  feet  out  of  then-  place  ;  when  the  very  shingle  on  the 
mountain-side  is  flyin'  about  like  dust  and  sand, — where 
would  your  grip  be  ?  It  is  not  only  on  the  mountains  either, 
but  down  in  the  plains,  ay,  even  in  the  narrowest  glens,  that 
the  cattle  lies  down  under  shelter  of  the  rocks  ;  and  many 's 
the  tune  a  sheep,  or  even  a  heifer,  is  swept  away  off  the  cliffs 
into  the  sea." 

With  many  an  anecdote  of  storm  and  hurricane  he  sea- 
soned our  little  meal  of  potatoes.  Some  curious  enough,  as 
illustrating  the  precautionary  habits  of  a  peasantry,  who 
on  land  experience  many  of  the  vicissitudes  supposed 
peculiar  to  the  sea ;  others  too  miraculous  for  easy  credence, 
but  yet  vouched  for  by  him  with  every  affirmative  of  truth. 
He  displayed  all  his  powers  of  agreeability  and  amusement ; 
but  his  tales  fell  on  unwilling  ears,  and  when  our  meal  was 
over  I  started  up  and  began  to  prepare  for  the  road. 

"  So  you  will  go,  will  you?  "  said  he,  peevishly.  "  '  T  is  in 
your  country  to  be  obstinate,  so  I  '11  say  nothing  more ;  but 
maybe  't  is  only  into  throubles  you  'd  be  running,  after  all !  " 

"  I'm  determined  on  it,"  said  I,  "  and  I  only  ask  you  to 
tell  me  what  road  to  take." 

"There  is  only  one,  so  there  is  no  mistakin'  it;  keep  to 
the  sheep  path,  and  never  leave  it  except  at  the  torrents,  — 
you  must  pass  them  how  ye  can ;  and  when  ye  come  to  f our 
big  rocks  in  the  plain,  leave  them  to  your  left,  and  keep  the 
side  of  the  mountain  for  two  miles,  till  ye  see  the  smoke 
of  the  village  underneath  you.  MuiTah  is  a  small  place, 
and  ye  '11  have  to  look  out  sharp,  or  maybe  ye '11  miss  it." 

"  That's  enough,"  said  I,  putting  some  silver  in  his  hand 
as  I  pressed  it.  ' '  We  '11  probably  meet  no  more  ;  good-by, 
and  many  thanks  for  your  pleasant  company." 

"  No,  we're  not  like  to  meet  again," said  he,  thoughtfully, 
"  and  that's  the  reason  I'd  like  to  give  you  a  bit  of  advice. 
Hear  me,  now,"  said  he,  drawing  closer  and  talking  in  a 


A   REMNANT   OF   "FONTENOY."  271 

whisper ;  ' '  you  can't  go  far  in  this  country  without  being 
known :  't  is  n't  your  looks  alone,  but  your  voice  and  your 
tongue  will  show  what  ye  are.  Get  away  out  of  it  as  fast 
as  you  can  !  there  's  thraitors  in  every  cause,  and  there 's  chaps 
in  Ireland  would  rather  make  money  as  informers  than  earn 
it  by  honest  industry  !  Get  over  to  the  Scotch  islands  ;  get 
to  Isla  or  Barra ;  get  anywhere  out  of  this  for  the  time." 

"  Thanks  for  the  counsel,"  said  I,  somewhat  coldly,  "I'll 
have  time  to  think  over  it  as  I  go  along ;  "  and  with  these 
words  I  set  forth  on  my  journey. 


CHAPTER  XXVn. 


THE    CRANAGH. 


I  WILL  not  weary  my  reader  with  a  narrative  of  my  mountain 
walk,  nor  the  dangers  and  difficulties  which  beset  me  on  that 
day  of  storm  and  hurricane.  Few  as  were  the  miles^  to 
travel,  what  with  accidents,  mistakes  of  the  path,  and  the 
halts  to  take  shelter,  I  only  reached  Murrah  as  the  day  was 
declining. 

The  little  village,  which  consisted  of  some  twenty  cabins, 
occupied  a  narrow  gorge  between  two  mountains,  and  pre- 
sented an  aspect  of  greater  misery  than  I  had  ever  witnessed 
before,  not  affording  even  the  humblest  specimen  of  a  house 
of  entertainment.  From  some  peasants  that  were  lounging 
in  the  street  I  learned  that  Father  Doogan  had  passed 
through  two  days  before  in  company  with  a  naval  officer, 
whom  they  believed  to  be  French.  At  least  "  he  came  from 
one  of  the  ships  in  the  Lough,  and  could  speak  no  English." 
Since  that  the  priest  had  not  returned,  and  many  thought 
that  he  had  gone  away  forever.  This  story,  varied  in  a  few 
unimportant  particulars,  I  heard  from  several,  and  also 
learned  that  a  squadron  of  several  sail  had  for  three  or  four 
days  been  lying  at  the  entrance  of  Lough  Swilly,  with,  it 
was  said,  large  reinforcements  for  the  "army  of  independ- 
ence." There  was  then  no  time  to  be  lost;  here  was  the 
very  force  which  I  had  been  sent  to  communicate  with ;  there 
were  the  troops  that  should  at  that  moment  be  disembarking. 
The  success  of  my  mission  might  all  depend  now  on  a  little 
extra  exertion,  and  so  I  at  once  engaged  a  guide  to  conduct 
me  to  the  coast,  and  having  fortified  myself  with  a  glass  of 
mountain  whiskey  I  felt  ready  for  the  road. 

My  guide  could  only  speak  a  very  little  English,  so  that 
our  way  was  passed  in  almost  unbroken  silence ;  and  as,  for 


"THE  CRANAGH."  273 

security,  he  followed  the  least  frequented  paths,  we  scarcely 
met  a  living  creature  as  we  went.  It  was  with  a  strange 
sense  of  half  pride,  half  despondency,  that  I  bethought  me 
of  my  own  position  there,  —  a  Frenchman  alone,  and  sepa- 
rated from  his  countrymen,  in  a  wild  mountain  region  of  Ire- 
land, carrying  about  him  documents  that,  if  detected,  might 
peril  his  life ;  involved  in  a  cause  that  had  for  its  object  the 
independence  of  a  nation,  and  that  against  the  power  of  the 
mightiest  kingdom  in  Europe.  An  hour  earlier  or  later,  an 
accident  by  the  way,  a  swollen  torrent,  a  chance  impediment 
of  any  kind  that  should  delay  me,  —  and  what  a  change 
might  that  produce  in  the  whole  destiny  of  the  world! 

The  despatches  I  carried  conveyed  instructions  the  most 
precise  and  accurate ;  the  places  for  combined  action  of  the 
two  armies,  information  as  to  the  actual  state  of  parties,  and 
the  condition  of  the  native  forces  w^as  contained  in  them. 
All  that  could  instruct  the  newly-come  generals  or  encoui-age 
them  to  decisive  measures  was  there  ;  and  yet  on  what  narrow 
contingencies  did  their  safe  arrival  depend  !  It  was  thus  in 
exaggerating  to  myself  the  part  I  played,  in  elevating  my 
humble  position  into  all  the  importance  of  a  high  trust,  that 
I  sustained  my  drooping  spirits  and  acquu-ed  energy  to  carry 
me  through  fatigue  and  exhaustion. 

During  that  night  and  the  greater  part  of  the  following 
day  we  walked  on  almost  without  halt,  scarcely  eating,  and, 
except  by  an  occasional  glass  of  whiskey,  totally  un- 
f reshed  ;  and  I  am  free  to  own  that  my  poor  guide  —  a  bare- 
legged youth  of  about  seventeen,  without  any  of  those  high 
sustaining  illusions  which  stirred  within  my  heart  —  suffered 
far  less  either  from  hunger  or  weariness  than  I  did.  So 
much  for  motives.  A  shilling  or  two  were  sufficient  to 
equalize  the  balance  against  all  the  weight  of  my  heroism 
and  patriotic  ardor  together. 

A  bright  sun  and  a  sharp  wind  from  the  north  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  lowering  sky  and  heavy  atmosphere  of  the 
morning,  and  we  travelled  along  with  light  hearts  and  brisk 
steps,  breasting  the  side  of  a  steep  ascent,  from  the  simimit 
of  which,  my  guide  told  me,  I  should  behold  the  sea,  —  the 
sea !  not  only  the  great  plain  on  which  I  expected  to  see  our 
armament,  but   the  link  which  bound  me    to    my  country ! 

18 


274  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

Suddenly,  just  as  I  turned  the  angle  of  a  cliff,  it  burst  upon 
my  sight,  —  one  vast  mirror  of  golden  splendor,  appearing 
almost  at  my  feet !  In  the  yellow  gleams  of  a  setting  sun, 
long  columns  of  azure-colored  light  streaked  its  calm  sur- 
face, and  tinged  the  atmosphere  with  a  warm  and  rosy  hue. 
While  I  was  lost  in  admiration  of  the  pictm'e,  I  heard  the 
sound  of  voices  close  beneath  me,  and,  on  looking  down, 
saw  two  figures,  who,  with  telescope  in  hand,  were  steadily 
gazing  on  a  little  bay  that  extended  towards  the  west. 

At  first,  my  attention  was  more  occupied  by  the  strangers 
than  by  the  object  of  their  curiosity ;  and  I  remarked  that 
they  were  dressed  and  equipped  like  sportsmen,  their  guns 
and  game-bags  lying  against  the  rock  behind  them. 

' '  Do  you  still  think  that  they  are  hovering  about  the 
coast,  Tom?"  said  the  elder  of  the  two,  "or  are  you  not 
convinced,  at  last,  that  I  am  right?" 

"  I  believe  you  are,"  replied  the  other;  "  but  it  certainly 
did  not  look  like  it  yesterday  evening,  with  their  boats  row- 
ing ashore  every  half  hour,  signals  flying,  and  blue  lights 
burning ;   all  seemed  to  threaten  a  landing." 

' '  If  they  ever  thought  of  it  they  soon  changed  their 
minds,"  said  the  former.  "  The  defeat  of  their  comrades  in 
the  west  and  the  apathy  of  the  peasantry  here  would  have 
cooled  down  warmer  ardor  than  theirs.  There  they  go, 
Tom.  I  only  hope  that  they  11  fall  in  with  Wan-en's  squad- 
ron, and  French  insolence  receive  at  sea  the  lesson  we  failed 
to  give  them  on  land." 

"  Not  so,"  rejoined  the  younger ;  "  Humbert's  capitulation 
and  the  total  break  up  of  the  expedition  ought  to  satisfy 
even  your  patriotism." 

"It  fell  far  short  of  it  then!"  cried  the  other.  "I'd 
never  have  treated  those  fellows  other  than  as  bandits  and 
freebooters.  I  'd  have  hanged  them  as  highwaymen.  Theirs 
was  less  war  than  rapine ;  but  what  could  you  expect  ?  I 
have  been  assured  that  Humbert's  force  consisted  of  little 
other  than  liberated  felons  and  galley-slaves,  —  the  refuse  of 
the  worst  population  of  Europe !  " 

Distracted  with  the  terrible  tidings  I  had  overheard,  over- 
whelmed with  the  sight  of  the  ships  now  glistening  like  bright 
specks  on  the  verge  of  the  horizon,  I  forgot  my  own  position, 


"THE   CRANAGH."  275 

my  safety,  everything   but   the  insult   thus  cast   upon  my 
gallant  comrades. 

"Whoever  said  so  was  a  liar,  and  a  base  coward  to 
boot !  "  cried  I,  springing  down  from  the  height  and  con- 
fronting them  both  where  they  stood.  They  started  back, 
and  seizing  their  guns  assumed  an  attitude  of  defence ;  and 
then  quickly  perceiving  that  I  was  alone,  —  for  the  boy  had 
taken  to  flight  as  fast  as  he  could,  —  they  stood  regarding 
me  with  faces  of  intense  astonishment. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  still  boiling  with  passion,  "you  are  two 
to  one,  on  youi'  own  soil  besides,  the  odds  you  are  best  used 
to ;  and  yet  I  repeat  it  that  he  who  asperses  the  character  of 
General  Humbert's  force  is  a  liar." 

"He's  French." 

"  No,  he's  Irish,"  muttered  the  elder. 

"What  signifies  my  country,  su-s,"  cried  I,  passionately, 
"  if  I  demand  retraction  for  a  falsehood?  " 

"It  signifies  more  than  you  think  of,  young  man,"  said 
the  elder,  calmly,  and  without  evincing  even  the  slightest 
irritation  in  his  manner.  "  If  you  be  a  Frenchman  born,  the 
lenity  of  our  government  accords  you  the  privilege  of  a 
prisoner  of  war.  If  you  be  only  French  by  adoption,  and  a 
uniform,  a  harsher  destiny  awaits  you." 

"And  who  says  I  am  a  prisoner  yet?"  asked  I,  drawing 
myself  up,  and  staring  them  steadily  in  the  face. 

"We  should  be  worse  men  and  poorer  patriots  than  you 
give  us  credit  for,  or  we  should  be  able  to  make  you  so," 
said  he,  quietly ;  "  but  this  is  no  time  for  ill-temper  on  either 
side.  The  expedition  has  failed.  Well,  if  you  will  not 
believe  me,  read  that.  There,  in  that  paper  you  will  see  the 
official  account  of  General  Humbert's  surrender  at  Boyle. 
The  news  is  already  over  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
island  ;  even  if  you  only  landed  last  night,  I  cannot  conceive 
how  you  should  be  ignorant  of  it !  "  I  covered  my  face  with 
my  hands  to  hide  my  emotion ;  and  he  went  on  :  "If  you  be 
French,  you  have  only  to  claim  and  prove  your  nationality, 
and  you  partake  the  fortunes  of  your  countrymen." 

"  And  if  he  be  not,"  whispered  the  other,  in  a  voice 
which,  although  low,  I  could  still  detect,  "why  should  we 
give  him  up?" 


276  MAURICE  TIERiSAY. 

"  Hush,  Tom,  be  quiet,"  replied  the  elder,  "  let  him  plead 
for  himself." 

"  Let  me  see  the  newspaper,"  said  I,  endeavoring  to  seem 
calm  and  collected ;  and  taking  it  at  the  place  he  pointed 
out,  I  read  the  heading  in  capitals,  "  Capitulation  of  Gen- 
eral Humbert  and  his  whole  Force."  I  could  see  no 
more.  I  could  not  trace  the  details  of  so  horrible  a  disaster, 
nor  did  I  ask  to  know  by  what  means  it  occm-red.  My 
attitude  and  air  of  apparent  occupation,  however,  deceived 
the  other ;  and  the  elder,  supposing  that  I  was  engaged  in 
considering  the  paragraph,  said,  "You'll  see  the  govern- 
ment proclamation  on  the  other  side,  —  a  general  amnesty  to 
all  under  the  rank  of  officers  in  the  rebel  army,  who  give  up 
then-  arms  within  six  days.  The  French  to  be  treated  as 
prisoners  of  war." 

"Is  he  too  late  to  regain  the  fleet?"  whispered  the 
younger. 

"  Of  course  he  is.  They  are  already  hull  down  ;  besides, 
who's  to  assist  his  escape,  Tom?  Y"ou  forget  the  position 
he  stands  in." 

"  But  I  do  not  forget  it,"  answered  I,  "  and  you  need  not 
be  afraid  that  I  will  seek  to  compromise  you,  gentlemen. 
Tell  me  where  to  find  the  nearest  justice  of  the  peace,  and  I 
will  go  and  surrender  myself." 

"It  is  your  wisest  and  best  policy,"  said  the  elder;  "I 
am  not  in  the  commission,  but  a  neighbor  of  mine  is,  and 
lives  a  few  miles  off,  and  if  you  like  we  '11  accompany  you  to 
his  house." 

I  accepted  the  offer,  and  soon  found  myself  descending 
the  steep  path  of  the  mountain  in  perfect  good  fellowship 
with  the  two  strangers.  It  is  likely  enough  if  they  had 
taken  any  peculiar  pains  to  obliterate  the  memory  of  our 
first  meeting,  or  if  they  had  displayed  any  extraordinary 
efforts  of  conciliation,  that  I  should  have  been  on  my  guard 
against  them ;  but  their  manners,  on  the  contrary,  were 
easy  and  unaffected  in  every  respect.  They  spoke  of  the 
expedition  sensibly  and  dispassionately ;  and  while  acknow- 
ledging that  there  were  many  things  they  would  like  to 
see  altered  in  the  English  rule  of  Ireland,  they  were  very 
averse  from  the  desire  of  a  foreign  intervention  to  rectify 
them. 


"THE   CRANAGH."  277 

I  avowed  to  them  that  we  had  been  grossly  deceived; 
that  all  the  representations  made  to  us  depicted  Ireland  as 
a  nation  of  soldiers,  wanting  only  arms  and  military  stores 
to  rise  as  a  vast  army ;  that  the  peasantry  were  animated 
by  one  spirit,  and  the  majority  of  the  gentry  willing  to 
hazard  everything  on  the  issue  of  a  struggle.  Our  Killala 
experiences,  of  which  I  detailed  some,  heartily  amused  them, 
and  it  was  in  a  merry  interchange  of  opinions  that  we  now 
walked  along  together. 

A  cluster  of  houses,  too  small  to  be  called  a  village  and 
known  as  the  "  Cranagh,"  stood  in  a  little  nook  of  the  bay; 
and  here  they  lived.  They  were  brothers ;  and  the  elder 
held  some  small  appointment  in  the  revenue,  which  main- 
tained them  as  bachelors  in  this  cheap  country.  In  a  low 
conversation  that  passed  between  them  it  was  agreed  that 
they  would  detain  me  as  their  guest  for  that  evening,  and  on 
the  morrow  accompany  me  to  the  magistrate's  house,  about 
five  miles  distant.  I  was  not  sorry  to  accept  their  hospitable 
offer ;  I  longed  for  ^  few  hours  of  rest  and  respite  before 
embarking  on  another  sea  of  troubles.  The  failure  of  the 
expedition  and  the  departure  of  the  fleet  had  overwhelmed 
me  with  grief,  and  I  was  in  no  mood  to  confront  new 
perils- 

If  my  new  acquaintances  could  have  read  my  inmost 
thoughts,  their  manner  towards  me  could  not  have  displayed 
more  kindness  or  good-breeding.  Not  pressing  me  with 
questions  on  subjects  where  the  greatest  curiosity  would  have 
been  permissible,  they  suffered  me  to  tell  only  so  much  as  I 
wished  of  our  late  plans,  and  as  if  purposely  to  withdraw 
my  thoughts  from  the  unhappy  theme  of  our  defeat  led  me  to 
talk  of  France,  and  her  career  in  Europe. 

It  was  not  without  surprise  that  I  saw  how  conversant  the 
newspapers  had  made  them  with  European  politics,  nor  how 
widely  different  did  events  appear  when  viewed  from  afar  off 
and  by  the  lights  of  another  and  different  nationality.  Thus 
all  that  we  were  doing  on  the  Continent  to  propagate  liberal 
notions,  and  promote  the  spread  of  freedom,  seemed  to  their 
eyes  but  the  efforts  of  an  ambitious  power  to  crush  abroad 
what  they  had  annihilated  at  home,  and  extend  their  own 
influence  in  disseminating  doctrines,  all  to  revert,  one  day  or 


278  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

other,  to  some  grand  despotism,  whenever  the  man  arose 
capable  to  exercise  it.  The  elder  would  not  even  concede  to 
us  that  we  were  fit  for  freedom. 

"You  are  glorious  fellows  at  destroying  an  old  edifice," 
said  he,  "but  sorry  architects  when  comes  the  question  of 
rebuilding ;  and  as  to  liberty,  your  highest  notion  of  it  is  an 
occasional  anarchy.  Like  schoolboys,  you  will  bear  any 
tyranny  for  ten  years,  to  have  ten  days  of  a  '  barring  out ' 
afterward." 

I  was  not  much  flattered  by  these  opinions ;  and,  what  was 
worse,  I  could  not  get  them  out  of  my  head  all  night  after- 
wards. Many  things  I  had  never  doubted  about  now  kept 
puzzling  and  confounding  me,  and  I  began  for  the  first  time 
to  know  the  misery  of  the  struggle  between  implicit  obedience 
and  conviction. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

SOME    NEW    ACQUAINTANCES. 

I  WENT  to  bed  at  night  in  all  apparent  health :  save  from  the 
flurry  and  excitement  of  an  anxious  mind,  I  was  in  no  respect 
different  from  my  usual  mood ;  and  yet  when  I  awoke  next 
morning,  my  head  was  distracted  with  a  racking  pain,  cramps 
were  in  all  my  limbs,  and  I  could  not  turn  or  even  move 
without  intense  suffering.  The  long  exposure  to  rain,  while 
my  mind  was  in  a  condition  of  extreme  excitement,  had 
brought  on  an  attack  of  fever,  and  before  evening  set  in  I 
was  raving  in  wild  delirium.  Every  scene  I  had  passed 
through,  each  eventful  incident  of  my  life,  came  flashing  in 
disjointed  portions  through  my  poor  brain ;  and  I  raved  away 
of  France,  of  Germany,  of  the  dreadful  days  of  Terror,  and 
the  fearful  orgies  of  the  Revolution.  Scenes  of  strife  and 
struggle,  the  terrible  conflicts  of  the  streets,  all  rose  before 
me  ;  and  the  names  of  every  bloodstained  hero  of  France  now 
mingled  with  the  obscure  titles  of  Irish  insurrection. 

What  narratives  of  my  early  life  I  may  have  given,  what 
stories  I  may  have  revealed  of  my  strange  career,  I  cannot 
tell ;  but  the  interest  my  kind  hosts  took  in  me  grew  stronger 
every  day.  There  was  no  care  or  kindness  they  did  not 
lavish  on  me.  Taking  alternate  nights  to  sit  up  with  me, 
they  watched  beside  my  bed  like  brothers.  All  that  affection 
could  give  they  rendered  me ;  and  even  from  their  narrow 
fortunes  they  paid  a  physician,  who  came  from  a  distant  town 
to  visit  me.  When  I  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  leave  my 
bed  and  sit  at  the  window,  or  stroll  slowly  in  the  garden,  I 
became  aware  of  the  full  extent  to  which  their  kindness  had 
carried  them,  and  in  the  precautions  for  secrecy  I  saw  the 
peril  to  which  my  presence  exposed  them.  From  an  excess 
of  delicacy  towards  me  they  did  not  allude  to  the  subject. 


280  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

nor  show  the  slightest  uneasiness  about  the  matter ;  but  day 
by  day  some  little  cu"cumstauce  would  occur,  some  slight  and 
trivial  fact  reveal  tlie  state  of  anxiety  they  lived  in. 

They  were  averse,  too,  from  all  discussion  of  late  events, 
and  either  answered  my  questions  vaguely  or  with  a  certain 
reserve ;  and  when  I  hinted  at  my  hope  of  being  soon  able  to 
appear  before  a  magistrate  and  establish  my  claim  as  a 
French  citizen,  they  replied  that  the  moment  was  an 
unfavorable  one;  that  the  lenity  of  the  government  had 
latterly  been  abused,  their  gracious  intentions  misstated  and 
perverted ;  that,  in  fact,  a  reaction  towards  severity  had 
occurred,  and  military  law  and  courts-martial  were  summarily 
disposing  of  cases  that  a  short  time  back  would  have 
received  the  mildest  sentences  of  civil  tribunals.  It  was 
clear,  from  all  they  said,  that  if  the  rebellion  was  suppressed, 
the  Insurrectionary  feeling  was  not  extinguished,  and  that 
England  was  the  very  reverse  of  tranquil  on  the  subject  of 
Ireland. 

It  was  to  no  purpose  that  I  repeated  my  personal  indiffer- 
ence to  all  these  measures  of  severity ;  that  in  my  capacity 
as  a  Frenchman  and  an  officer  I  stood  exempt  from  all  the 
consequences  they  alluded  to.  Their  reply  was  that  in  times 
of  trouble  and  alarm  things  were  done  which  quieter  periods 
would  never  have  sanctioned,  and  that  indiscreet  and  over- 
zealous  men  would  venture  on  acts  that  neither  law  nor 
justice  could  substantiate.  In  fact,  they  gave  me  to  believe 
that  such  was  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  such  the 
embittered  vengeance  of  those  whose  families  or  fortunes  had 
suffered  by  the  rebellion,  that  no  reprisals  would  be  thought 
too  heavy,  nor  any  harshness  too  great,  for  those  who  aided 
the  movement. 

AVhatever  I  might  have  said  against  the  injustice  of  this 
proceeding,  in  my  secret  heart  I  had  to  confess  that  it  was 
only  what  might  have  been  expected;  and  coming  from  a 
country  where  it  was  enough  to  call  a  man  an  aristocrat, 
and  then  cry  a  la  lanterne^  I  saw  nothing  unreasonable  in 
it  all. 

My  friends  advised  me,  therefore,  instead  of  preferring  any 
formal  claim  to  immunity,  to  take  the  first  occasion  of 
escaping  to  America,  whence  I  could  not  fail,  later  on,  of 


SOME  NEW  ACQUAINTANCES.  281 

returning  to  France.  At  first,  the  counsel  only  irritated  me, 
but  by  degrees,  as  I  came  to  think  more  calmly  and  seriously 
of  the  difficulties,  I  began  to  regard  it  in  a  different  light ; 
and  at  last  I  fulh^  concurred  in  the  wisdom  of  the  advice,  and 
resolved  on  adopting  it. 

To  sit  on  the  cliffs  and  watch  the  ocean  for  hours  became 
now  the  practice  of  my  life,  —  to  gaze  from  daybreak  almost 
to  the  falling  of  night  over  the  wide  expanse  of  sea,  straining 
my  eyes  at  each  sail,  and  conjecturing  to  what  distant  shore 
they  were  tending.  The  hopes  which  at  first  sustained  at 
last  deserted  me,  as  week  after  week  passed  over,  and  no 
prospect  of  escape  appeared.  The  life  of  inactivity  gradually 
depressed  my  spirits,  and  I  fell  into  a  low  and  moping  con- 
dition, in  which  my  hours  rolled  over  without  thought  or 
notice.  Still,  I  returned  each  day  to  my  accustomed  spot,  — 
a  lofty  peak  of  rock  that  stood  over  the  sea,  and  from  which 
the  view  extended  for  miles  on  every  side.  There,  half  hid 
in  the  wild  heath,  I  used  to  lie  for  houi's  long,  my  eyes  bent 
upon  the  sea,  but  my  thoughts  wandering  away  to  a  past 
that  never  was  to  be  renewed,  and  a  future  I  was  never 
destined  to  experience. 

Although  late  in  the  autumn,  the  season  was  mild  and 
genial,  and  the  sea  calm  and  waveless  save  along  the  shore, 
where,  even  in  the  stillest  weather,  the  great  breakers  came 
tumbling  in  with  a  force  independent  of  storm ;  and  listen- 
ing to  their  booming  thunder,  I  have  dreamed  away  hour 
after  hour  unconsciously. 

It  was  one  day,  as  I  lay  thus,  that  my  attention  was  caught 
by  the  sight  of  three  large  vessels  on  the  very  verge  of  the 
horizon.  Habit  had  now  given  me  a  certain  acuteness,  and  I 
could  perceive  from  their  height  and  size  that  they  were  ships 
of  war.  For  a  while  they  seemed  as  if  steering  for  the 
entrance  of  the  "lough,"  but  afterwards  they  changed  their 
course,  and  headed  towards  the  west.  At  length  they  sepa- 
rated, and  one  of  smaller  size,  and  probably  a  frigate  from 
her  speed,  shot  forward  beyond  the  rest,  and  in  less  than  half 
an  hour  disappeared  from  view.  The  other  two  gradually  sunk 
beneath  the  horizon,  and  not  a  sail  was  to  be  seen  over  the 
wide  expanse.  While  speculating  on  what  errand  the  squad- 
ron might  be  employed,  I  thought  I  could  hear  the  deep  and 


282  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

rolling  sound  of  distant  cannonading.  My  ear  was  too 
practised  in  the  thundering  crash  of  the  breakers  along  shore 
to  confound  the  noises ;  and  as  I  listened  I  fancied  that  I 
could  distinguish  the  sound  of  single  guns  from  the  louder 
roar  of  a  whole  broadside.  This  could  not  mean  salut- 
ing, nor  was  it  likely  to  be  a  mere  exercise  of  the  fleet.  They 
were  not  times  when  much  powder  was  expended  unprofit- 
ably.  Was  it  then  an  engagement?  But  with  what  or 
whom?  Tandy's  expedition,  as  it  was  called,  had  long  since 
sailed,  and  must  ere  this  have  been  captured  or  safe  in 
France.  I  tried  a  hundred  conjectures  to  explain  the 
mystery,  which  now,  from  the  long  continuance  of  the 
sounds,  seemed  to  denote  a  desperately  contested  engage- 
ment. It  was  not  till  after  three  hours  that  the  cannonad- 
ing ceased,  and  then  I  could  descry  a  thick  dark  canopy  of 
smoke  that  hung  hazily  over  one  spot  in  the  horizon,  as  if 
marking  out  the  scene  of  the  struggle.  With  what  aching, 
torturing  anxiety  I  burned  to  know  what  had  happened,  and 
with  which  side  rested  the  victory ! 

Well  habituated  to  hear  of  the  English  as  victors  in  every 
naval  engagement,  I  yet  went  on  hoping  against  hope  itself, 
that  Fortune  might  for  once  have  favored  us ;  nor  was  it 
till  the  falling  night  prevented  my  being  able  to  trace  out 
distant  objects,  that  I  could  leave  the  spot  and  turn  home- 
wards. With  wishes  so  directly  opposed  to  theirs,  I  did  not 
ventui'e  to  tell  my  two  friends  what  I  had  witnessed,  nor 
trust  myself  to  speak  on  a  subject  where  my  feelings  might 
have  betrayed  me  into  unseemly  expressions  of  my  hopes.  I 
was  glad  to  find  that  they  knew  nothing  of  the  matter,  and 
talked  away  indifferently  of  other  subjects.  By  daybreak  the 
next  morning  I  was  at  my  post,  a  sharp  nor'wester  blowing, 
and  a  heavy  sea  rolling  in  from  the  Atlantic.  Instinctively 
carrying  my  eyes  to  the  spot  where  I  had  heard  the  cannon- 
ade, I  could  distinctly  see  the  tops  of  spars,  as  if  the  upper 
rigging  of  some  vessels,  beyond  the  horizon.  Gradually  they 
rose  higher  and  higher,  till  I  could  detect  the  yard-arms  and 
cross-trees,  and  finally  the  great  hulls  of  five  vessels  that 
were  bearing  towards  me. 

For  above  an  hour  I  could  see  their  every  movement,  as 
with  all  canvas  spread  they  held  on  majestically  towards  the 


SOME  NEW  ACQUAINTANCES.  283 

land,  when  at  length  a  lofty  promontory  of  the  bay  intervened, 
and  they  were  lost  to  my  view.  I  jumped  to  my  legs  at  once, 
and  set  off  down  the  cliff  to  reach  the  headland,  from  whence 
an  uninterrupted  prospect  extended.  The  distance  was  greater 
than  I  had  supposed,  and  in  my  eagerness  to  take  a  direct  line 
to  it  I  got  entangled  in  difficult  gorges  among  the  hills,  and 
was  impeded  by  mountain  torrents  which  often  compelled  me 
to  go  back  a  considerable  distance  ;  it  was  already  late  in  the 
afternoon  as  I  gained  the  crest  of  a  ridge  over  the  Bay  of 
Lough  Swilly.  Beneath  me  lay  the  calm  surface  of  the  lough, 
landlocked  and  still ;  but  further  out  seaward  there  was  a 
sight  that  made  my  very  limbs  tremble,  and  sickened  my 
heart  as  I  beheld  it.  There  was  a  large  frigate,  that,  with 
studding-sails  set,  stood  boldly  up  the  bay,  followed  by  a 
dismasted  three-decker,  at  whose  mizzen  floated  the  ensign  of 
England  over  the  French  tricolor.  Several  other  vessels  were 
grouped  about  the  offing,  all  of  them  displaying  English  colors. 

The  dreadful  secret  was  out.  There  had  been  a  tremend- 
ous sea-fight,  and  the  "  Hoche,"  of  seventy-four  guns,  was  the 
sad  spectacle  which,  with  shattered  sides  and  ragged  rigging, 
I  now  beheld  entering  the  bay.  Oh  the  humiliation  of  that 
sight !  I  can  never  forget  it.  And  although  on  all  the  sur- 
rounding hills  scarcely  fifty  country-people  were  assembled,  I 
felt  as  if  the  whole  of  Europe  were  spectators  of  our  defeat. 
The  flag  I  had  always  believed  triumphant  now  hung  igno- 
miniously  beneath  the  ensign  of  the  enemy,  and  the  decks  of 
our  noble  ship  were  crowded  with  the  uniforms  of  English 
sailors  and  marines. 

The  blue  water  surged  and  spouted  from  the  shot-holes  as 
the  great  hull  loomed  heavily  from  side  to  side,  and  broken 
spars  and  ropes  still  hung  over  the  side  as  she  went,  a 
perfect  picture  of  defeat.  Never  was  disaster  more  legibly 
written.  I  watched  her  till  the  anchor  dropped,  and  then  in 
a  burst  of  emotion  I  turned  away,  unable  to  endure  more. 
As  I  hastened  homeward  I  met  the  elder  of  my  two  hosts 
coming  to  meet  me,  in  considerable  anxiety.  He  had  heard 
of  the  capture  of  the  "Hoche,"  but  his  mind  was  far  more 
intent  on  another  and  less  important  event.  Two  men  had 
just  been  at  his  cottage  with  a  warrant  for  my  arrest.  The 
document  bore  my  name  and  rank,  as  well  as  a  description 


284  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

of  my  appearance,  and  significantly  alleged,  that,  although 
Irish  by  birth,  I  affected  a  foreign  accent  for  the  sake  of 
concealment. 

"There  is  no  chance  of  escape,  now,"  said  my  friend; 
"we  are  surrounded  with  spies  on  every  hand.  My  advice 
Is,  therefore,  to  hasten  to  Lord  Cavan's  quarters  —  he  is  now 
at  Letterkenny  —  and  give  yourself  up  as  a  prisoner.  There 
is  at  least  the  chance  of  your  being  treated  like  the  rest  of 
your  countrymen.  I  have  already  provided  you  with  a  horse 
and  a  guide,  for  I  must  not  accompany  you  myself.  Go, 
then,  Maurice.  We  shall  never  see  each  other  again ;  but 
we  '11  not  forget  you,  nor  do  we  fear  that  you  will  forget  us. 
My  brother  could  not  trust  himself  to  take  leave  of  you,  but 
his  best  wishes  and  prayers  go  with  you." 

Such  were  the  last  words  my  kind-hearted  friend  spoke 
to  me ;  nor  do  I  know  what  reply  I  made,  as  overcome  by 
emotion,  my  voice  became  thick  and  broken.  I  wanted  to 
tell  all  my  gratitude,  and  yet  could  say  nothing.  To  this 
hour  I  know  not  with  what  impression  of  me  he  went  away. 
I  can  only  assert,  that,  in  all  the  long  career  of  vicissitudes 
of  a  troubled  and  adventurous  life,  these  brothers  have 
occupied  the  chosen  spot  of  my  affection  for  everything  that 
was  disinterested  in  kindness  and  generous  in  good  feeling. 
They  have  done  more ;  for  they  have  often  reconciled  me  to 
a  world  of  harsh  injustice  and  illiberality,  by  remembering 
that  two  such  exceptions  existed,  and  that  others  may  have 
experienced  what  fell  to  my  lot. 

For  a  mile  or  two  my  way  lay  through  the  mountains,  but 
after  reaching  the  high  road  I  had  not  proceeded  far  when  I 
was  overtaken  by  a  jaunting-car,  on  which  a  gentleman  was 
seated,  with  his  leg  supported  by  a  cushion  and  bearing  all 
the  signs  of  a  severe  injury. 

"  Keep  the  near  side  of  the  way,  sir,  I  beg  of  3"0u,"  cried 
he ;  "I  have  a  broken  leg,  and  am  excessively  uneasy  when 
a  horse  passes  close  to  me." 

I  touched  my  cap  in  salute,  and  immediately  turned  my 
horse's  head  to  comply  with  his  request. 

"Did  you  see  that,  George?"  cried  another  gentleman, 
who  sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  vehicle ;  "  did  you  remark 
that  fellow's  salute?     My  life  on  't,  he  's  a  French  soldier." 


SOME   NEW  ACQUAINTANCES.  285 

"Nonsense,  man;  he's  the  steward  of  a  Clyde  smack,  or 
a  clerk  in  a  counting-house,"  said  the  first,  in  a  voice  which, 
though  purposely  low,  my  quick  hearing  could  catch 
perfectly. 

"  Are  we  far  from  Letterkeuny  just  now,  sir?"  said  the 
other,  addressing  me. 

"I  believe  about  five  miles,"  said  I,  with  a  prodigious 
effort  to  make  my  pronunciation  pass  muster. 

"You're  a  stranger  in  these  parts,  I  see,  sir,"  rejoined 
he,  with  a  cunning  glance  at  his  friend,  while  he  added, 
lower,  "Was  I  right,  Hill?" 

Although  seeing  that  all  concealment  was  now  hopeless, 
I  was  in  nowise  disposed  to  plead  guilty  at  once,  and  there- 
fore, with  a  cut  of  my  switch,  pushed  my  beast  into  a  sharp 
canter  to  get  foi-w^ard. 

My  friends,  however,  gave  chase,  and  now  the  jaunting- 
car,  notwithstanding  the  sufferings  of  the  invalid,  was  clat- 
tering after  me  at  about  nine  miles  an  hour.  At  first  I 
rather  enjoyed  the  malice  of  the  penalty  their  curiosity  was 
costing ;  but  as  I  remembered  that  the  invalid  was  not  the 
chief  offender,  I  began  to  feel  compunction  at  the  severity 
of  the  lesson,  and  drew  up  to  a  walk. 

The}^  at  once  shortened  their  pace,  and  came  up  beside 
me. 

"A  clever  hack  you're  riding,  sir,"  said  the  inquisitive 
man. 

"  Not  so  bad  for  an  animal  of  this  country,"  said  I,  super- 
ciliously. 

"  Oh,  then,  what  kind  of  a  horse  are  you  accustomed  to?" 
asked  he,  half  insolently. 

"The  Limousin,"  said  I,  coolly,  "what  we  alwaj^s  mount 
in  our  hussar  regiments  in  France." 

"  And  you  are  a  French  soldier,  then?"  cried  he,  in  evident 
astonishment  at  my  frankness. 

"  At  3'our  service,  sir,"  said  I,  saluting  ;  "a  lieutenant  of 
hussars ;  and  if  you  are  tormented  by  any  further  curiosity 
concerning  me,  I  may  as  well  relieve  you  by  stating  that  I 
am  proceeding  to  Lord  Cavan's  headquarters  to  surrender  as 
a  prisoner." 

"  Frank  enough,  that!  "  said  he  of  the  broken  lea^,  lau^h- 


286  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

ing  heartily  as  he  spoke.  "  Well,  sir,"  said  the  other,  ''you 
are,  as  your  countrynien  would  call  it,  bien  venu^  for  we  are 
bound  in  that  du'ection  ourselves,  and  will  be  happy  to  have 
your  company." 

One  piece  of  tact  my  worldly  experience  had  profoundly 
impressed  upon  me,  and  that  was  the  necessit}^  of  always 
assuming  an  air  of  easy  unconcern  in  every  circumstance  of 
doubtful  issue.  There  was  quite  enough  of  difficult}^  in  the 
present  case  to  excite  my  anxiety,  but  I  rode  along  beside 
the  jaunting-car,  chatting  familiarly  with  my  new  acquaint- 
ances, and,  I  believe,  without  exhibiting  the  slightest  degree 
of  uneasiness  regarding  my  own  position. 

From  them  I  learned  so  much  as  they  had  heard  of  the 
late  naval  engagement.  The  report  was  that  Bompard's  fleet 
had  fallen  in  with  Sir  John  Warren's  squadron ;  and  having 
given  orders  for  his  fastest  sailers  to  make  the  best  of  their 
way  to  France,  had,  with  the  "  Hoche,"  the  "  Loire,"  and  the 
"  Resolve,"  given  battle  to  the  enemy.  These  had  all  been 
captured,  as  well  as  four  others  which  fled,  two  alone  of  the 
whole  succeeding  in  their  escape.  I  think  now  that,  grievous 
as  these  tidings  were,  there  was  nothing  of  either  boastful- 
ness  or  insolence  in  the  tone  in  which  they  were  communi- 
cated to  me.  Every  praise  was  accorded  to  Bompard  for 
skill  and  bravery,  and  the  defence  was  spoken  of  in  terms  of 
generous  eulogy.  The  only  trait  of  acrimony  that  showed 
itself  in  the  recital  was  a  regret  that  a  number  of  Irish  rebels 
should  have  escaped  in  the  "Biche,"  one  of  the  smaller 
frigates,  and  several  emissaries  of  the  people,  who  had  been 
deputed  to  the  adnikal,  were  also  alleged  to  have  been  on 
board  of  that  vessel. 

' '  You  are  sorry  to  have  missed  your  friend  the  priest  of 
Murrah  ?  "  said  Hill,  jocularly. 

"Y"es,  by  George,  that  fellow  should  have  graced  a  gal- 
lows if  I  had  been  lucky  enough  to  have  taken  him." 

"What  was  his  crime,  sir?"  asked  I,  with  seeming 
unconcern. 

"Nothing  more  than  exciting  to  rebellion  a  people  with 
whom  he  had  no  tie  of  blood  or  kindred  !  He  was  a  French- 
man, and  devoted  himself  to  the  cause  of  Ireland,  as  they 
call  it,  from  pure  sympathy  —  " 


SOME  NEW  ACQUAINTANCES.  287 

"  And  a  dash  of  Popery,"  broke  in  Hill. 

"It's  hard  to  say  even  that;  my  own  opinion  is  that 
French  Jacobinism  cares  very  little  for  the  Pope.  Am  I 
right,  young  gentleman  —  you  don't  go  very  often  to 
confession  ?  " 

"  I  should  do  so  less  frequently  if  I  were  to  be  subjected 
to  such  a  system  of  interrogatory  as  yours,"  said  I,  tartly. 

They  both  took  my  impertinent  speech  in  good  part,  and 
laughed  heartily  at  it ;  and  thus,  half  amicably,  half  in  ear- 
nest, we  entered  the  little  town  of  Letterkenny,  just  as  night 
was  falling. 

''If  you'll  be  our  guest  for  this  evening,  sir,"  said  Hill, 
"we  shall  be  happy  to  have  your  company." 

I  accepted  the  invitation,  and  followed  them  into  the  inn. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

"  THE    BREAKFAST    AT    LETTERKENNY." 

Early  the  next  morning,  a  messenger  arrived  from  the 
Cranagh  with  a  small  packet  of  my  clothes  and  effects,  and 
a  farewell  letter  from  the  two  brothers.  I  had  but  time  to 
glance  over  its  contents  when  the  tramp  of  feet  and  the  buzz 
of  voices  in  the  street  attracted  me  to  the  window,  and  on 
looking  out  I  saw  a  long  line  of  men,  two  abreast,  who  were 
marching  along  as  prisoners,  a  party  of  dismounted  dragoons 
keeping  guard  over  them  on  either  side,  followed  by  a  strong 
detachment  of  marines.  The  poor  fellows  looked  sad  and 
crestfallen  enough.  Many  of  them  wore  bandages  on  their 
heads  and  limbs,  the  tokens  of  the  late  struggle.  Imme- 
diately in  front  of  the  inn  door  stood  a  group  of  about  thirty 
persons ;  they  were  the  staff  of  the  English  force  and  the 
officers  of  our  fleet,  all  mingled  together,  and  talking  away 
with  the  greatest  air  of  unconcern.  I  was  struck  by  remark- 
ing that  all  our  seamen,  though  prisoners,  saluted  the  officers 
as  they  passed,  and  in  the  glances  interchanged  I  thought  I 
could  read  a  world  of  sympathy  and  encouragement.  As  for 
the  officers,  like  true  Frenchmen,  they  bore  themselves  as 
though  it  were  one  of  the  inevitable  chances  of  war,  and, 
however  vexatious  for  the  moment,  not  to  be  thought  of  as 
an  event  of  much  importance.  The  greater  number  of  them 
belonged  to  the  army,  and  I  could  see  the  uniforms  of  the 
staff,  artillery  and  dragoons,  as  well  as  the  less  distinguished 
costume  of  the  line. 

Perhaps  they  carried  the  affectation  of  indifference  a  little 
too  far,  and  in  the  lounging  ease  of  their  attitude  and  the 
cool  unconcern  with  which  they  puffed  theii'  cigars  displayed 
an  over-anxiety  to  seem  unconcerned.  That  the  English 
were  piqued  at  their  bearing  was  still  more  plain  to  see ;  and, 


"THE  BREAKFAST  AT  LETTERKEXXY."     289 

indeed,  in  tlie  sullen  looks  of  the  one,  and  the  careless  gayet}^ 
of  the  other  party,  a  stranger  might  readily  have  mistaken 
the  captor  for  the  captive. 

My  two  friends  of  the  evening  before  were  in  the  midst  of 
the  group.  He  Avho  had  questioned  me  so  sharply  now  wore 
a  general  officer's  uniform,  and  seemed  to  be  the  chief  in 
command.  As  I  watched  him  I  heard  him  addressed  by  an 
officer,  and  now  saw  that  he  was  no  other  than  Lord  Cavan 
himself,  while  the  other  was  a  well-known  magistrate  and 
country  gentleman,    Su-  George  Hill. 

The  sad  procession  took  almost  half  an  hour  to  defile ;  and 
then  came  a  long  string  of  countr}^  cars  and  carts,  with  sea- 
chests  and  other  stores  belonging  to  our  officers,  and,  last  of 
all,  some  eight  or  ten  ammunition  wagons  and  gun-carriages, 
over  which  an  English  union-jack  now  floated  in  token  of 
conquest. 

There  was  nothing  like  exultation  or  triumph  exhibited  by 
the  peasantry  as  this  pageant  passed.  They  gazed  in  silent 
wonderment  at  the  scene,  and  looked  like  men  who  scarcely 
knew  whether  the  result  boded  more  of  good  or  evil  to  their 
own  fortunes.  While  keenly  scrutinizing  the  looks  and 
bearing  of  the  bystanders,  I  received  a  summons  to  meet  the 
general  and  his  party  at  breakfast. 

Although  the  occurrence  was  one  of  the  most  pleasurable 
incidents  of  my  life  which  brought  me  once  more  into  inter- 
course with  my  comrades  and  my  countrymen,  I  should 
perhaps  pass  it  over  with  slight  mention  were  it  not  that  it 
made  me  witness  to  a  scene  which  has  since  been  recorded 
in  various  different  ways,  but  of  whose  exact  details  I  profess 
to  be  an  accurate  narrator. 

After  making  a  tour  of  the  room,  saluting  my  comrades, 
answering  questions  here,  putting  others  there,  I  took  my 
place  at  the  long  table,  which,  running  the  whole  length  of 
the  apartment,  was  indiscriminately  occupied  by  French  and 
English,  and  found  myself  with  my  back  to  the  fireplace, 
and  having  directly  in  front  of  me  a  man  of  about  thirty- 
three  or  thirty-four  years  of  age,  dressed  in  the  uniform  of 
a  chef  de  hrlgacle.  Light-haired  and  blue-eyed,  he  bore  no 
resemblance  whatever  to  those  around  him,  whose  dark  faces 
and    black   beards    proclaimed    them    of   a    foreign    origin. 

19 


290  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

There  was  an  air  of  mildness  in  his  manner,  mingled  with  a 
certain  impetuosity  that  betrayed  itself  in  the  rapid  glances 
of  his  eye ;  and  I  could  plainly  mark  that  while  the  rest  were 
perfectly  at  their  ease,  he  was  constrained,  restless,  watch- 
ing eagerly  ever^'thing  that  went  forward  about  him,  and 
showing  unmistakably  a  certain  anxiety  and  distrust,  widely 
differing  from  the  gay  and  careless  indifference  of  his  com- 
rades. I  was  curious  to  hear  his  name,  and  on  asking, 
learned  that  he  was  the  chef  de  brigade  Smith,  an  Irish- 
man by  bu'th,  but  holding  a  command  in  the  French 
service. 

I  had  but  asked  the  question,  when  pushing  back  his  chair 
from  the  table  he  arose  suddenly,  and  stood  stiff  and  erect, 
like  a  soldier  on  parade. 

' '  Well,  sir,  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  with  your  inspection 
of  me,"  cried  he,  and  sternly  addressing  himself  to  some  one 
behind  my  back.  I  turned  and  perceived  it  was  Sir  George 
Hill,  who  stood  in  front  of  the  fire  leaning  on  his  stick. 
Whether  he  replied  or  not  to  this  rude  speech  I  am  unable 
to  say,  but  the  other  walked  leisurely  round  the  table  and 
came  directly  in  front  of  him.  "You  know  me  now,  sir,  I 
presume,"  said  he,  in  the  same  imperious  voice,  "  or  else 
this  uniform  has  made  a  greater  change  in  my  appearance 
than  I  knew  of." 

"  Mr.  Tone !  "  said  Sir  George,  in  a  voice,  scarcely  above 
a  whisper. 

"Ay,  sir,  Wolfe  Tone;  there  is  no  need  of  secrecy  here, 
—  Wolfe  Tone,  your  old  college  acquaintance  iu  former 
times,  but  now  chef  de  brigade  in  the  service  of  France." 

"This  is  a  very  unexpected,  a  very  unhapp3%  meeting, 
Mr.  Tone,"  said  Hill,  feelingly;  "I  sincerel}"  wish  you  had 
not  recalled  the  memory  of  our  past  acquaintance.  My  duty 
gives  me  no  alternative." 

"Your  duty,  or  I  mistake  much,  can  have  no  concern  with 
me,  sir,"  cried  Tone,  in  a  more  excited  voice. 

"  I  ask  for  nothing  better  than  to  be  sure  of  this,  Mr. 
Tone,"  said  Sir  George,  moving  slowly  towards  the  door. 

"  You  would  treat  me  like  an  emigre  ventre^''  cried  Tone, 
passionately,  "but  I  am  a  French  subject  and  a  French 
oflacer!" 


"THE   BREAKFAST  AT  LETTERKEXNY."  291 

''  I  shall  be  well  satisfied  if  others  take  the  same  view  of 
your  case,  I  assure  you,"  said  Hill,  as  he  gained  the  door. 

"You'll  not  find  me  unprepared  for  either  event,  sir," 
rejoined  Tone,  following  him  out  of  the  room,  and  banging 
the  door  angrily  behind  him. 

For  a  moment  or  two  the  noise  of  voices  was  heard  from 
without,  and  several  of  the  guests,  English  and  French, 
rose  from  the  table,  eagerly  inquiring  what  had  occurred, 
and  asking  for  an  explanation  of  the  scene,  when  suddenly 
the  door  was  flung  wide  open,  and  Tone  appeared  between 
two  policemen,  his  coat  off,  and  his  wrists  enclosed  in 
handcuffs. 

"Look  here,  comrades,"  he  cried  in  French;  "this  is 
another  specimen  of  English  politeness  and  hospitality. 
After  all,"  added  he,  with  a  bitter  laugh,  "they  have  no 
designation  in  all  their  heraldry  as  honorable  as  these  fetters, 
when  worn  for  the  cause  of  freedom !  Good-by,"*  com- 
rades ;  we  may  never  meet  again,  but  don't  forget  how  we 
parted !  " 

These  were  the  last  words  he  uttered,  when  the  door  was 
closed  and  he  was  led  forward  under  charge  of  a  strong 
force  of  police  and  military.  A  postchaise  was  soon  seen  to 
pass  the  windows  at  speed,  escorted  by  dragoons,  and  we 
saw  no  more  of  our  comrade. 

The  incident  passed  even  more  rapidly  than  I  write  it. 
The  few  words  spoken,  the  hurried  gestures,  the  passionate 
exclamations,  are  yet  all  deeply  graven  on  my  memory ;  and 
I  can  recall  every  little  incident  of  the  scene,  and  every  fea- 
ture of  the  locality  wherein  it  occurred.  With  true  French 
levity  many  reseated  themselves  at  the  breakfast-table ; 
whilst  others,  with  perhaps  as  little  feeling,  but  more  of 
curiosity,  discussed  the  event,  and  sought  for  an  explana- 
tion of  its  meaning. 

"Then  what's  to  become  of  Tiernay,"  cried  one,  "if  it 
be  so  hard  to  throw  off  this  '  coil  of  Englishmen '  ?  His 
position  may  be  just  as  precarious." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  has  occurred,"  said  Lord  Cavan, 
"  a  warrant  for  his  apprehension  has  just  been  put  into  my 
hands,  and  I  deeply  regret  that  the  dut}^  should  violate  that 
of  hospitality,  and  make  my  guest  my  prisoner." 


292  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

"  May  I  see  this  waiTant,  my  lord?"  asked  I. 

"Certainly,  sir.  Here  it  is;  and  here  is  the  informa- 
tion on  oath  thi'ough  which  it  was  issued,  sworn  to  before 
three  justices  of  the  peace  by  a  certain  Joseph  Dowall, 
late  an  officer  in  the  rebel  forces,  but  now  a  pardoned 
approver  of  the  Crown ;  do  you  remember  such  a  man, 
sir?" 

I  bowed,  and  he  went  on. 

"He  would  seem  a  precious  rascal;  but  such  characters 
become  indispensable  in  times  like  these.  After  all,  M. 
Tiernay,  my  orders  are  only  to  transmit  you  to  Dublin 
under  safe  escort,  and  there  is  nothing  either  in  my  duty  or 
in  your  position  to  occasion  any  feeling  of  unpleasantness 
between  us.     Let  us  have  a  glass  of  wine  together." 

I  responded  to  this  civil  proposition  with  politeness ;  and 
after  a  slight  interchange  of  leave-takings  with  some  of  my 
newly-found  comi^ades,  I  set  out  for  Derry  on  a  jaunting- 
car  accompanied  by  an  officer  and  two  policemen,  affecting 
to  think  very  little  of  a  cu'cumstance  which  in  reality,  the 
more  I  reflected  over  it,  the  more  serious  I  deemed  it. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

SCENE  IN  THE  ROYAL  BARRACKS. 

It  would  afford  me  little  pleasure  to  write,  and  doubtless  my 
readers  less  to  read,  my  lucubrations  as  I  journeyed  along 
towards  Dublin.  My  thoughts  seldom  turned  from  myself 
and  my  own  fortunes,  nor  were  they  cheered  by  the  scene 
through  which  I  travelled.  The  season  was  a  backward 
and  wet  one,  and  the  fields,  partly  from  this  cause  and  partly 
from  the  people  being  engaged  in  the  late  struggle,  lay  un- 
tilled  and  neglected.  Groups  of  idle,  lounging  peasants 
stood  in  the  villages,  or  loitered  on  the  high-roads  as  we 
passed,  sad,  ragged-looking,  and  wretched.  They  seemed 
as  if  they  had  no  heart  to  resume  their  wonted  life  of  labor, 
but  were  waiting  for  some  calamity  to  close  their  miserable 
existence.  Strongly  in  contrast  with  this  were  the  aii'  and 
bearing  of  the  yeomanry  and  militia  detachments  with  whom 
we  occasionally  came  up.  Quite  forgetting  how  little  credit- 
able to  some  of  them,  at  least,  were  the  events  of  the  late 
campaign,  they  gave  themselves  the  most  intolerable  airs 
of  heroism,  and  in  their  drunken  jollity  and  reckless  aban- 
donment threatened,  I  know  not  what,  —  utter  ruin  to 
France  and  all  Frenchmen.  Bonaparte  was  the  great  mark 
of  all  their  sarcasms,  and,  from  some  cause  or  other,  seemed 
to  enjoy  a  most  disproportioned  share  of  their  dislike  and 
derision. 

At  first  it  required  some  effort  of  constraint  on  my  part  to 
listen  to  this  ribaldry  in  silence ;  but  prudence  and  a  little 
sense  taught  me  the  safer  lesson  of  "  never  minding,"  and 
so  I  affected  to  understand  nothing  that  was  said  in  a  spirit 
of  insult  or  offence. 

On  the  night  of  the  7th  of  November  we  drew  nigh  to 
Dublin ;  but  instead  of  entering  the  capital,  we  halted  at  a 


294  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

small  village  outside  of  it  called  Chapelizod.  Here  a  house 
had  been  fitted  up  for  the  reception  of  French  prisoners,  and 
I  found  myself,  if  not  in  company,  at  least  under  the  same 
roof,  with  my  countrymen. 

Nearer  intercoui'se  than  this,  however,  I  was  not  destined 
to  enjoy ;  for  early  on  the  following  morning  I  was  ordered 
to  set  out  for  the  Eoyal  Barracks,  to  be  tried  before  a  court- 
martial.  It  was  on  a  cold,  raw  morning,  with  a  thin,  drizzly 
rain  falling,  that  we  drove  into  the  barrack-yard,  and  drew 
up  at  the  mess-room,  then  used  for  the  purposes  of  a  court. 
As  yet  none  of  the  members  had  assembled,  and  two  or  three 
mess-waiters  were  engaged  in  removing  the  signs  of  last 
night's  debauch,  and  restoring  a  semblance  of  decorum  to  a 
very  rackety-looking  apartment.  The  walls  were  scrawled 
over  with  absurd  caricatures,  in  charcoal  or  ink,  of  notorious 
characters  of  the  capital,  and  a  very  striking  "  battle-piece  " 
commemorated  the  ''  Races  of  Castlebar,"  as  that  memorable 
action  was  called,  in  a  spirit,  I  am  bound  to  say,  of  little 
flattery  to  the  British  arms.  There  were,  to  be  sure,  little 
compensatory  illustrations  here  and  there  of  French  cav- 
alry in  Egypt,  mounted  on  donkeys,  or  revolutionary  troops 
on  parade,  ragged  as  scarecrows  and  ill-looking  as  highway- 
men ;  but  a  most  liberal  justice  characterized  all  these  fres- 
cos, and  they  treated  both  Trojan  and  Tyrian  alike. 

I  had  abundant  time  given  me  to  admire  them ;  for  although 
summoned  for  seven  o'clock,  it  was  nine  before  the  first  offi- 
cer of  the  court-martial  made  his  appearance,  and  he  having 
popped  in  his  head,  and  perceiving  the  room  empty,  saun- 
tered out  again  and  disappeared.  At  last  a  very  noisy 
jaunting-car  rattled  into  the  square,  and  a  short,  red-faced 
man  was  assisted  down  from  it,  and  entered  the  mess-room. 
This  was  Mr.  Peters,  the  Deputy  Judge  Advocate,  whose 
presence  was  the  immediate  signal  for  the  others,  who  now 
came  dropping  in  from  every  side,  —  the  President,  a  Colonel 
Daly,  arriving  the  last. 

A  few  tradespeople,  loungers  it  seemed  to  me  of  the  bar- 
racks, and  some  half-dozen  non-commissioned  officers  off 
duty  made  up  the  public ;  and  I  could  not  but  feel  a  sense 
of  my  insignificance  in  the  utter  absence  of  interest  my  fate 
excited.    The  listless  indolence  and  informality,  too,  offended 


SCENE  IN  THE  ROYAL  BARRACKS.       295 

and  insulted  me ;  and  when  the  President  politely  told  me  to 
be  seated,  for  they  were  obliged  to  wait  for  some  books  or 
papers  left  behind  at  his  quarters,  I  actually  was  indignant 
at  his  coolness. 

As  we  thus  waited,  the  officers  gathered  round  the  fire- 
place, chatting  and  laughing  pleasantly  together,  discussing 
the  social  events  of  the  capital  and  the  gossip  of  the  day,  — 
everything,  in  fact,  but  the  case  of  the  individual  on  whose 
future  fate  they  were  about  to  decide. 

At  length  the  long-expected  books  made  their  appearance, 
and  a  few  well-thumbed  volumes  were  spread  over  the  table, 
behind  which  the  court  took  then'  places.  Colonel  Daly  in 
the  centre,  with  the  judge  upon  his  left. 

The  members  being  sworn,  the  Judge  Advocate  arose,  and 
in  a  hurried,  humdrum  kind  of  voice  read  out  what  pur- 
ported to  be  the  commission  under  which  I  was  to  be  tried,  — 
the  charge  being,  whether  I  had  or  had  not  acted  treache- 
rously and  hostilely  to  his  Majesty,  whose  natural-born 
subject  I  was,  being  born  in  that  kingdom,  and  consequently 
owing  to  him  all  allegiance  and  fidelity. 

"  Guilty  or  not  guilty,  sir?  " 

"The  charge  is  a  falsehood;  I  am  a  Frenchman,"  was 
my  answer. 

"  Have  respect  for  the  Court,  sir,"  said  Peters  ;  "  you  mean 
that  you  are  a  French  officer,  but  by  birth  an  Irishman." 

' '  I  mean  no  such  thing ;  that  I  am  French  by  birth  as  I 
am  in  feeling ;  that  I  never  saw  Ireland  till  within  a  few 
months  back,  and  heartily  wish  I  had  never  seen  it." 

"'So  would  General  Humbert,  too,  perhaps,"  said  Daly, 
(aughing ;  and  the  court  seemed  to  relish  the  jest. 

"  Where  were  you  born,  then,  Tiernay  ?  " 

"  In  Paris,  I  believe." 

"  And  your  mother's  name,  what  was  it?  " 

"  I  never  knew;  I  was  left  an  orphan  when  a  mere  infant, 
and  can  tell  little  of  my  family." 

"  Your  father  was  Irish,  then?  " 

•'  Only  by  descent.  I  have  heard  that  we  came  from  a 
family  who  bore  the  title  of  'Timmahoo,' — Lord  Tiernay 
of  Timmahoo." 

"  There  was  such  a  title,"  interposed  Peters  ;   "it  was  one 


296  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

of  King  James's  last  creations  after  bis  flight  from  the  Boyne. 
Some,  indeed,  assert  that  it  was  conferred  before  the  battle. 
What  a  strange  coincidence,  to  find  the  descendant,  if  he  be 
such,  laboring  in  something  like  the  same  cause  as  his 
ancestor !  " 

"What's  your  rank,  sir?"  asked  a  sharp,  severe-looking 
man,  called  Major  Flood. 

"  Fu-st  Lieutenant  of  Hussars." 

"  And  is  it  usual  for  a  boy  of  3'our  years  to  hold  that  rank, 
or  was  there  anything  peculiar  in  your  case  that  obtained 
the  promotion  ?  " 

"I  served  in  two  campaigns,  and  gained  m}^  grade 
regularl}^" 

"Your  Irish  blood,  then,  had  no  share  in  j^our  advance- 
ment?" asked  he  again. 

"  I  am  a  Frenchman,  as  I  said  before,"  was  my  answer. 

"A  Frenchman,  who  lays  claim  to  an  Irish  estate  and 
an  Irish  title,"  replied  Flood.  "  Let  us  hear  Dowall's 
statement." 

And  now,  to  my  utter  confusion,  a  man  made  his  way  to 
the  table,  and,  taking  the  book  from  the  Judge  Advocate, 
kissed  it  in  token  of  an  oath. 

"  Inform  the  court  of  anything  j^ou  know  in  connection 
with  the  prisoner,"  said  the  judge. 

And  the  fellow,  not  daring  even  to  look  towards  me,  began 
a  long,  rambling,  unconnected  narrative  of  his  first  meeting 
with  me  at  Killala,  affecting  that  a  close  intimacy  had  sub- 
sisted between  us,  and  that  in  the  faith  of  a  confidence  I  had 
told  him  how,  being  an  Irishman  by  birth,  I  had  joined  the 
expedition  in  the  hope  that  with  the  expulsion  of  the  Eng- 
lish I  should  be  able  to  re-establish  my  claim  tQ  my  family 
rank  and  fortune.  There  was  little  coherence  in  his  story, 
and  more  than  one  discrepant  statement  occurred  in  it ;  but 
the  fellow's  natural  stupidity  imparted  a  wonderful  air  of 
truth  to  the  narrative,  and  I  was  surprised  how  naturally  it 
sounded  even  to  my  own  ears,  little  circumstances  of  truth 
being  interspersed  through  the  recital,  as  though  to  season 
the  falsehood  into  a  semblance  of  fact. 

"What  have  you  to  reply  to  this,  Tiernay?"  asked  the 
colonel. 


SCENE  IN  THE  ROYAL  BARRACKS.       297 

"  Simply,  sir,  that  such  a  witness,  were  his  assertions  even 
more  consistent  and  probable,  is  utterly  unworthy  of  credit. 
This  fellow  was  one  of  the  greatest  marauders  of  the  rebel 
army ;  and  the  last  exercise  of  authority  I  ever  witnessed  by 
General  Humbert  was  an  order  to  drive  him  out  of  the  town 
of  Castlebar." 

''Is  this  the  notorious  Town  Major  Dowall?"  asked  an 
officer  of  artillery. 

"  The  same,  sir." 

"I  can  answer,  then,  for  his  being  one  of  the  greatest 
rascals  unhanged,"  rejoined  he. 

"  This  is  all  very  irregular,  gentlemen,"  interposed  the 
Judge  Advocate;  "the  character  of  a  witness  cannot  be 
impugned  by  what  is  mere  desultory  conversation.  Let 
Dowall  withdraw." 

The  man  retired,  and  now  a  whispered  conversation  was 
kept  up  at  the  table  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  in  which 
I  could  distinctly  separate  those  who  befriended  from  those 
who  opposed  me,  —  the  major  being  the  chief  of  the  latter 
party.  One  speech  of  his  which  I  overheard  made  a  slight 
impression  on  me,  and  for  the  first  time  suggested  uneasiness 
regarding  the  event. 

"  Whatever  you  do  with  this  lad  must  have  an  immense 
influence  on  Tone's  trial.  Don't  forget  that  if  you  acquit 
him,  you'll  be  sorely  puzzled  to  con\ict  the  other." 

The  colonel  promptly  overruled  this  unjust  suggestion,  and 
maintained  that  in  my  accent,  manner,  and  appearance  there 
was  every  evidence  of  my  French  origin. 

"LetAYolfe  Tone  stand  upon  his  own  merits,"  said  he, 
"but  let  us  not  mix  this  case  with  his." 

"I'd  have  treated  every  man  who  landed  to  a  rope," 
exclaimed  the  major,  "  Humbert  himself  among  the  rest. 
It  was  pure  '  brigandage,'  and  nothing  less." 

"  I  hope  if  I  escape,  sir,  that  it  will  never  be  my  fortune 
to  see  you  a  prisoner  of  France,"  said  I,  forgetting  all  in  my 
indignation. 

"  If  my  voice  have  any  influence,  young  man,  that  oppor- 
tunity is  not  likely  to  occur  to  you,"  was  the  reply. 

This  ungenerous  speech  found  no  sympathy  with  the  rest, 
and  I  soon  saw  that  the  major  represented  a  small  minority 
in  the  court. 


298  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

The  want  of  my  commission,  or  of  any  document  suitable 
to  my  rank  or  position  in  the  service,  was  a  great  drawback ; 
for  I  had  given  all  my  papers  to  Humbert,  and  had  nothing 
to  substantiate  my  account  of  myself.  I  saw  how  unfavor- 
ably this  acknowledgment  was  taken  by  the  court ;  and 
when  I  was  ordered  to  withdraw  that  they  might  deliberate, 
I  own  that  I  felt  great  misgivings  as  to  the  result. 

The  deliberation  was  a  long,  and,  as  I  could  overhear,  a 
strongly  disputed  one.  Dowall  was  twice  called  in  for 
examination,  and  when  he  retired  on  the  last  occasion  the 
discussion  grew  almost  stormy. 

As  I  stood  thus  awaiting  my  fate,  the  public,  now  removed 
from  the  court,  pressed  eagerly  to  look  at  me ;  and  while 
some  thronged  the  doorway,  and  even  pressed  against  the 
sentry,  others  crowded  at  the  window  to  peep  in.  Among 
these  faces,  over  which  my  eye  ranged  in  half  vacancy,  one 
face  struck  me  for  the  expression  of  sincere  sympathy  and 
interest  it  bore.  It  was  that  of  a  middle-aged  man  of  an 
humble  walk  in  life,  whose  dress  bespoke  him  from  the  coun- 
try. There  was  nothing  in  his  appearance  to  have  called 
for  attention  or  notice,  and  at  any  other  time  I  should  have 
passed  him  over  without  remark ;  but  now,  as  his  features 
betokened  a  feeling  almost  verging  on  anxiety,  I  could  not 
regard  him  without  interest. 

Whichever  way  my  eyes  turned,  however  my  thoughts 
might  take  me  off,  whenever  I  looked  towards  him  I  was 
sure  to  find  his  gaze  steadily  bent  upon  me,  and  with  an 
expression  quite  distinct  from  mere  curiosity.  At  last  came 
the  summons  for  me  to  re-appear  before  the  court,  and  the 
crowd  opened  to  let  me  pass  in. 

The  noise,  the  anxiety  of  the  moment,  and  the  move- 
ment of  the  people  confused  me  at  first ;  and  when  I  re- 
covered self-possession,  I  found  that  the  Judge  Advocate 
was  reciting  the  charge  under  which  I  was  tried.  There 
were  three  distinct  counts,  on  each  of  which  the  court  pro- 
nounced me  "Not  Guilty,"  but  at  the  same  time  qualifying 
the  finding  by  the  additional  words,  "  by  a  majority  of  two," 
thus  showing  me  that  my  escape  had  been  a  narrow  one. 

''  As  a  prisoner  of  war,"  said  the  President,  "  you  will  now 
receive  the  same  treatment  as  your  comrades  of  the   same 


SCENE  IN  THE  ROYAL  BARRACKS.       299 

rank.  Some  have  been  already  exchanged,  and  some  have 
given  bail  for  their  appearance  to  answer  any  future  charges 
against  them." 

"  I  am  quite  ready,  sir,  to  accept  my  freedom  on  parole," 
said  I ;  "of  course,  in  a  country  where  I  am  an  utter  stranger 
bail  is  out  of  the  question." 

"  I  'm  willing  to  bail  him,  your  worship  ;  I  '11  take  it  on  me 
to  be  surety  for  him,"  cried  a  coarse,  husky  voice  from  the 
body  of  the  court ;  and  at  the  same  time  a  man  dressed  in  a 
great  coat  of  dark  frieze  pressed  through  the  crowd  and 
approached  the  table. 

"And  who  are  you,  my  good  fellow,  so  ready  to  impose 
yourself  on  the  court?"  asked  Peters. 

"I 'ma  farmer  of  eighty  acres  of  land,  from  the  Black 
Pits,  near  Baldoyle ;  and  the  adjutant  there,  Mr.  Moore, 
knows  me  well." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  adjutant,  "  I  have  known  you  some  years 
as  supplying  forage  to  the  cavalry,  and  always  heard  you 
spoken  of  as  honest  and  trustworthy." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Moore ;  that's  as  much  as  I  want." 

"  Yes,  but  it's  not  as  much  as  we  want,  my  worthy  man," 
said  Peters  ;  "we  require  to  know  that  you  are  a  solvent  and 
respectable  person." 

"  Come  out  and  see  my  place,  then  ;  ride  over  the  land  and 
look  at  my  stock ;  ask  my  neighbors  my  character ;  find  out 
if  there 's  anything  against  me." 

"We  prefer  to  leave  all  that  trouble  on  your  shoulders," 
said  Peters ;  "  show  us  that  we  may  accept  your  surety,  and 
we'll  entertain  the  question  at  once." 

"  How  much  is  it?"  asked  he,  eagerly. 

"  We  demanded  five  hundred  pounds  for  a  major  on  the 
staff;  suppose  we  say  two,  colonel,  is  that  sufficient?"  asked 
Peters  of  the  President. 

"  I  should  say  quite  enough,"  was  the  reply. 

"  There 's  eightj^of  it,  anyway,"  said  the  farmer,  producing 
a  dirty  roll  of  bank  notes,  and  throwing  them  on  the  table ; 
"  I  got  them  from  Mr.  Murphy  in  Smithfield  this  morning, 
and  I  '11  get  twice  as  much  more  from  him  for  asking ;  so  if 
your  honors  will  wait  till  I  come  back,  I'll  not  be  twenty 
minutes  away." 


300  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"  But  we  can't  take  your  money,  my  man;  we  have  no 
right  to  touch  it." 

''Then  what  are  ye  talking  about  two  hundred  pounds 
for?"  asked  he,  sternly. 

"We  want  your  promise  to  pay  in  the  event  of  this  bail 
being  broken." 

"  Oh,  I  see,  it's  all  the  same  thing  in  the  end ;  I  '11  do  it 
either  way." 

"  We  '11  accept  Mr.  Murphy's  guarantee  for  your  solvency," 
said  Peters ;  ' '  obtain  that,  and  you  can  sign  the  bond  at 
once." 

"Faith,  I'll  get  it,  sure  enough,  and  be  here  before 
you  've  the  writing  drawn  out,"  said  he,  buttoning  up  his 
coat. 

"  What  name  are  we  to  insert  in  the  bond?  " 

"Tiernay,  sir." 

"  That's  the  prisoner's  name,  but  we  want  yours." 

"Mine's  Tieruay,  too,  sir;  Pat  Tiernay  of  the  Black 
Pits." 

Before  I  could  recover  from  my  surprise  at  this  announce- 
ment he  had  left  the  court,  which  in  a  few  minutes  afterwards 
broke  up,  a  clerk  alone  remaining  to  fill  up  the  necessary 
documents  and  complete  the  bail-bond. 

The  colonel,  as  well  as  two  others  of  his  officers,  pressed 
me  to  join  them  at  breakfast ;  but  I  declined,  resolving  to 
wait  for  my  namesake's  return,  and  partake  of  no  other 
hospitality  than  his. 

It  was  near  one  o'clock  when  he  returned,  almost  worn 
out  with  fatigue,  since  he  had  been  in  pursuit  of  Mr. 
Murphy  for  several  hours,  and  only  came  upon  him  by 
chance  at  last.  His  business,  however,  he  had  fully  accom- 
plished ;  the  bail-bond  was  duly  drawn  out  and  signed,  and 
I  left  the  barrack  in  a  state  of  happiness  very  different  from 
the  feeling  with  which  I  had  entered  it  that  day. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

A   BRIEF    CHANGE    OF    LIFE    AND    COUNTRY. 

My  new  acquaintance  never  ceased  to  congratulate  himself 
on  what  he  called  the  lucky  accident  that  had  led  him  to  the 
barracks  that  morning,  and  thus  brought  about  our  meeting. 
"  Little  as  j^ou  think  of  me,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "I  'm  one  of 
the  Tiernays  of  Timmahoo  myself ;  faix,  until  I  saw  you,  I 
thought  I  was  the  last  of  them  !  There  are  eight  generations 
of  us  in  the  churchyard  at  Kells,  and  I  was  looking  to  the 
time  when  they  'd  lay  my  bones  there  as  the  last  of  the  race  ; 
but  I  see  there's  better  fortune  before  us." 

' '  But  you  have  a  family,  I  hope  ?  " 

"Sorrow  one  belonging  to  me.  I  might  have  married 
when  I  was  young ;  but  there  was  a  pride  in  me  to  look  for 
something  higher  than  I  had  any  right,  except  from  blood  I 
mean,  for  a  better  stock  than  our  own  is  n't  to  be  found ; 
and  that 's  the  way  years  went  over  and  I  lost  the  oppor- 
tunity, and  here  I  am  now  an  old  bachelor,  without  one  to 
stand  to  me,  barrin'  it  be  yourself." 

The' last  words  were  uttered  with  a  tremulous  emotion, 
and  on  turning  towards  him  I  saw  his  eyes  swimming  with 
tears,  and  perceived  that  some  strong  feeling  was  working 
within  him. 

"You  can't  suppose  I  can  ever  forget  what  I  owe  you, 
Mr.  Tiernay!" 

"  Call  me  Pat,  Pat  Tiernay,"  interi-upted  he,  roughly. 

"I'll  call  you  what  you  please,"  said  I,  "if  you  let  me 
add  friend  to  it." 

"That's  enough;  we  understand  one  another  now,  no 
more  need  be  said ;  you  '11  come  home  and  live  with  me. 
It 's  not  long,  maybe,  you  '11  have  to  do  that  same,  but  when 
I  go  you  '11  be  heu'  to  what  I  have  ;  't  is  more,  perhaps,  than 


302  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

many  supposes,  looking  at  the  coat  and  the  gaiters  I  am 
wearin'.  Mind,  Maurice,  I  don't  want  you  nor  I  don't 
expect  you  to  turn  farmer  like  myself.  You  need  never  turn 
a  hand  to  anything.  You  '11  have  your  horse  to  ride,  —  two, 
if  you  like  it.  Your  time  will  be  all  your  own,  so  that  you 
spend  a  little  of  it  now  and  then  with  me,  and  as  much 
divarsion  as  ever  you  care  for." 

I  have  condensed  into  a  few  words  the  substance  of  a 
conversation  which  lasted  till  we  reached  Baldoyle,  and 
passing  through  that  not  over-imposing  village,  gained  the 
neighborhood  of  the  sea-shore,  along  which  stretched  the 
farm  of  the  Black  Pits,  —  a  name  derived,  I  was  told,  from 
certain  black  holes  that  were  dug  in  the  sands  by  fishermen 
in  former  times,  when  the  salt  tide  washed  over  the  pleasant 
fields  where  corn  was  now  growingo  A  long,  low,  thatched 
cabin,  with  far  more  indications  of  room  and  comfort  than 
pretension  to  the  picturesque,  stood  facing  the  sea.  There 
were  neither  trees  nor  shrubs  around  it,  and  the  aspect  of 
the  spot  was  bleak  and  cheerless  enough,  a  coloring  a  dark 
November  day  did  nothing  to  dispel. 

It  possessed  one  charm,  however;  and  had  it  been  a 
hundred  times  inferior  to  what  it  was,  that  one  would  have 
compensated  for  all  else :  a  hearty  welcome  met  me  at  the 
door,  and  the  words,  "This  is  your  home,  Maurice,"  filled 
my  heart  with  happiness. 

"Were  I  to  suffer  myself  to  dwell  even  in  thought  on  this 
period  of  my  life,  I  feel  how  insensibly  I  should  be  led  away 
into  an  inexcusable  prolixit}^  The  little  meaningless  inci- 
dents of  my  daily  life,  all  so  engraven  on  my  memory  still, 
occupied  me  pleasantly  from  day  till  night.  Not  only  the 
master  of  myself  and  my  own  time,  I  was  master  of  every- 
thing around  me.  Uncle  Pat,  as  he  loved  to  call  himself, 
treated  me  with  a  degree  of  respect  that  was  almost  painful 
to  me,  and  only  when  we  were  alone  together  did  he  relapse 
into  the  intimacy  of  equality.  Two  first-rate  hunters  stood 
in  my  stable;  a  stout-built  half -deck  boat  lay  at  my  com- 
mand beside  the  quay ;  I  had  my  gun  and  my  grayhounds ; 
books,  journals ;  everj^thing,  in  short,  that  a  liberal  purse 
and  a  kind  spirit  could  confer,  —  all  but  acquaintance.  Of 
these  I  possessed  absolutely  none.     Too  proud  to  descend  to 


A  BEIEF  CHANGE  OF  LIFE   AND   COUNTRY.  303 

intimacy  with  the  farmers  and  small  shopkeepers  of  the 
neighborhood,  my  position  excluded  me  from  acquaintance 
with  the  gentry ;  and  thus  I  stood  between  both,  unknown 
to  either. 

For  a  while  my  new  career  was  too  absorbing  to  suffer  me 
to  dwell  on  this  circumstance.  The  excitement  of  field 
sports  sufficed  me  when  abroad,  and  I  came  home  usually  so 
tired  at  night  that  I  could  barely  keep  awake  to  amuse  Uncle 
Pat  with  those  narratives  of  war  and  campaigning  he  was  so 
fond  of  hearing.  To  the  hunting-field  succeeded  the  Bay  of 
Dublin,  and  I  passed  days,  even  weeks,  exploring  every 
creek  and  inlet  of  the  coast,  —  now  cruising  under  the  dark 
cliffs  of  the  Welsh  shore,  or,  while  my  boat  lay  at  anchor, 
wandering  among  the  solitary  valleys  of  Lambay,  my  life 
like  a  dream  full  of  its  own  imaginings,  and  unbroken  by  the 
thoughts  or  feelings  of  others.  I  will  not  go  the  length  of 
saying  that  I  was  self-free  from  all  reproach  on  the  inglorious 
indolence  in  which  my  days  were  passed,  or  that  my  thoughts 
never  strayed  away  to  that  land  where  my  first  dreams  of 
ambition  were  felt ;  but  a  strange,  fatuous  kind  of  languor 
had  grown  upon  me,  and  the  more  I  retired  within  myself 
the  less  did  I  wish  for  a  return  to  that  struggle  with  the 
world  which  every  active  life  engenders.  Perhaps,  — I  can- 
not now  say  if  it  were  so,  —  perhaps  I  resented  the  disdain- 
ful distance  with  which  the  gentry  treated  me,  as  we  met  in 
the  hunting-field  or  the  coursing-ground.  Some  of  the  isola- 
tion I  preferred  may  have  had  this  origin,  but  choice  had  the 
greater  share  in  it ;  until  at  last  my  greatest  pleasure  was  to 
absent  myself  for  weeks  on  a  cruise,  fancying  that  I  was 
exploring  tracts  never  visited  by  man,  and  landing  on  spots 
where  no  human  foot  had  ever  been  known  to  tread. 

If  Uncle  Pat  would  occasionally  remonstrate  on  the  score 
of  these  long  absences,  he  never  ceased  to  supply  means  for 
them,  and  my  sea  store  and  a  well-filled  purse  were  never 
wantinor,  when  the  blue  Peter  floated  from  "La  Hoche,"  as 
in  my  ardor  I  had  named  my  cutter.  Perhaps  at  heart  he 
was  not  sorry  to  see  me  avoid  the  capital  and  its  society. 
The  bitterness  which  had  succeeded  the  struggle  for  inde- 
pendence was  now  at  its  highest  point,  and  there  was  what, 
to  my  thinking  at  least,  appeared  something  like  the  cruelty 


304  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

of  revenge  in  the  sentences  which  followed  the  state  trials. 
I  will  not  suffer  myself  to  stray  into  the  debatable  ground  of 
politics,  nor  dare  I  give  an  opinion  on  matters  where,  with 
all  the  experience  of  fifty  years  superadded,  the  wisest  heads 
are  puzzled  how  to  decide ;  but  my  impression  at  the  time 
was  that  lenity  would  have  been  a  safer  and  a  better  policy 
than  severity,  and  that  in  the  momentary  prostration  of  the 
country  lay  the  precise  conjuncture  for  those  measures  of 
grace  and  favor  which  were  afterwards  rather  wrung  from 
than  conceded  by  the  English  Government.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  Dublin  offered  a  strange  spectacle  at  that  period,  —  the 
triumphant  joy  of  one  party,  the  discomfiture  and  depression 
of  the  other;  all  the  exuberant  delight  of  success  here,  all 
the  bitterness  of  failure  there ;  on  one  side  festivities,  rejoic- 
ings, and  public  demonstrations ;  on  the  other,  confinement, 
banishment,  or  the  scaffold. 

The  excitement  was  almost  madness.  The  passion  for 
pleasure,  restrained  by  the  terrible  contingencies  of  the  time, 
now  broke  forth  with  redoubled  force,  and  the  capital  was 
thronged  with  all  its  rank,  riches,  and  fashion  when  its  jails 
were  crowded,  and  the  heaviest  sentences  of  the  law  were 
in  daily  execution.  The  state  trials  were  crowded  by  all 
the  fashion  of  the  metropolis ;  and  the  heart-moving  elo- 
quence of  Curran  was  succeeded  by  the  strains  of  a  merry 
concert.  It  was  just  then,  too,  that  the  great  lyric  poet  of 
Ireland  began  to  appear  in  society ;  and  those  songs  which 
were  to  be  known  afterwards  as  "  The  Melodies,"  par 
excellence^  were  first  heard  in  all  the  witching  enchantment 
which  his  own  taste  and  voice  could  lend  them.  To  such  as 
were  indifferent  to  or  could  forget  the  past,  it  was  a  brilliant 
period.  It  was  the  last  flickering  blaze  of  Irish  nationality, 
before  the  lamp  was  extinguished  forever. 

Of  this  society  I  myself  saw  nothing.  But  even  into  the 
retirement  of  my  humble  life  the  sounds  of  its  mirth  and 
pleasure  penetrated,  and  I  often  wished  to  witness  the  scenes 
which  even  in  vague  description  were  fascinating.  It  was 
then,  in  a  kind  of  discontent  at  my  exclusion,  that  I  grew 
from  day  to  day  more  disposed  to  solitude,  and  fonder  of 
those  excursions  which  led  me  out  of  all  reach  of  companion- 
ship or  acquaintance.     In  this  spirit  I  planned  a  long  cruise 


A  BRIEF   CHANGE   OF  LIFE   AND   COUNTRY.        305 

down  channel,  resolving  to  visit  the  island  of  Valentia,  or, 
if  the  wind  and  weather  favored,  to  creep  around  the  south- 
west coast  as  far  as  Bantry  or  Kenmare.  A  man  and  his 
son,  a  boy  of  about  sixteen,  formed  all  my  crew,  and  were 
quite  sufficient  for  the  light  tackle  and  easy  rig  of  my  craft. 
Uncle  Pat  was  already  mounted  on  his  pony,  and  ready  to 
set  out  for  market,  as  we  prepared  to  start.  It  was  a  bright 
spring  morning,  —  such  a  one  as  now  and  then  the  changeful 
climate  of  Ireland  brings  forth  in  a  brilliancy  of  color  and 
softness  of  atmosphere  that  are  rare  in  even  more  favored 
lands. 

"You  have  a  fine  day  of  it,  Maurice,  and  just  enough 
wind,"  said  he,  looking  at  the  point  from  whence  it  came. 
"I  almost  wish  I  was  going  with  you." 

"And  why  not  come,  then?"  asked  I.  "You  never  will 
give  yourself  a  holiday.     Do  so  for  once,  now." 

"Not  to-day,  anyhow,"  said  he,  half  sighing  at  his  self- 
denial.  "I  have  a  great  deal  of  business  on  my  hands  to- 
day ;  but  the  next  time,  the  very  next  you  're  up  to  a  long 
cruise,  I  '11  go  with  you." 

"  That 's  a  bargain^  then?  " 

"  A  bargain.     Here 's  my  hand  on  it." 

We  shook  hands  cordially  on  the  compact.  Little  knew 
I  it  was  to  be  for  the  last  time,  and  that  we  were  never  to 
meet  again ! 

I  was  soon  aboard,  and  with  a  free  mainsail  skimming 
rapidly  over  the  bright  waters  of  the  bay.  The  wind 
freshened  as  the  day  wore  on,  and  we  quickly  passed  the 
Kish  light-ship,  and  held  our  course  boldly  down  channel. 
The  height  of  my  enjoyment  in  these  excursions  consisted 
in  the  unbroken  quietude  of  mdnd  I  felt  when  removed 
from  all  chance  interruption,  and  left  free  to  follow  out  my 
own  fancies  and  indulge  my  dreamy  conceptions  to  my 
heart's  content.  It  was  then  I  used  to  revel  in  imaginings 
which  sometimes  soared  into  the  boldest  realms  of  ambi- 
tion, and  at  others  strayed  contemplatively  in  the  humblest 
walks  of  obscure  fortune.  My  crew  never  broke  in  upon 
these  musings ;  indeed,  old  Tom  Finerty's  low  crooning  song 
rather  aided  than  interrupted  them.  He  was  not  much 
given  to  talking,  and  a  chance  allusion  to  some  vessel  afar 

20 


306  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

off,  or  some  headland  we  were  passing,  were  about  the  extent 
of  his  communicativeness,  and  even  these  often  fell  on  my 
ear  unnoticed. 

It  was  thus,  at  night,  we  made  the  Hook  Tower,  and  on 
the  next  day  passed,  in  a  spanking  breeze,  under  the  bold 
cliffs  of  Tramore,  just  catching,  as  the  sun  was  sinking,  the 
sight  of  Youghal  Bay  and  the  tall  headlands  beyond  it. 

"  The  wind  is  drawing  more  to  the  nor'ard,"  said  old  Tom, 
as  night  closed  in,  "  and  the  clouds  look  dirty." 

"  Bear  her  up  a  point  or  two,"  said  I,  "  and  let  us  stand  in 
for  Cork  Harbor,  if  it  comes  on  to  blow." 

He  muttered  something  in  reply,  but  I  did  not  catch  the 
words ;  nor,  indeed,  cared  I  to  hear  them,  for  I  had  just 
wrapped  myself  in  my  boat-cloak,  and,  stretched  at  full 
length  on  the  shingle  ballast  of  the  yawl,  was  gazing  in 
rapture  at  the  brilliancy  of  the  starry  sky  above  me.  Light 
skiffs  of  feathery  cloud  would  now  and  then  flit  past,  and  a 
peculiar  hissing  sound  of  the  sea  told,  at  the  same  time,  that 
the  breeze  was  freshening.  But  old  Tom  had  done  his  duty 
in  mentioning  this  once,  and  thus  having  disburthened  his 
conscience  he  closehauled  his  mainsail,  shifted  the  ballast  a 
little  to  midships,  and  putting  up  the  collar  of  his  pilot-coat 
screwed  himself  tighter  into  the  corner  beside  the  tiller,  and 
chewed  his  quid  in  quietness.  The  boy  slept  soundly  in  the 
bow,  and  I,  lulled  by  the  motion  and  the  plashing  waves, 
fell  into  a  dreamy  stupor,  like  a  pleasant  sleep.  The  pitch- 
ing of  the  boat  continued  to  increase,  and  twice  or  thrice 
struck  by  a  heav}^  sea  she  lay  over  till  the  white  waves  came 
tumbling  in  over  her  gunwale.  I  heard  Tom  call  to  his  boy, 
something  about  the  head-sail ;  but  for  the  life  of  me  I  could 
not  or  would  not  arouse  myself  from  a  train  of  thought  that 
I  was  following. 

"She's  a  stout  boat  to  stand  this,"  said  Tom,  as 
he  rounded  her  off,  at  a  coming  wave,  which,  even  thus  es- 
caped, splashed  over  us  like  a  cataract.  "  I  know  many 
a  bigger  craft  would  n't  hold  up  her  canvas  under  such  a 
gale." 

"  Here  it  comes,  father !  Here 's  a  squall !  "  cried  the  boy ; 
and  with  a  crash  like  thunder,  the  wind  struck  the  sail  and 
laid  the  boat  half-under. 


A  BRIEF  CHANGE   OE  LIFE  AND   COUNTRY.        307 

"  She  'd  float  if  she  was  full  of  water,"  said  the  old  man,  as 
the  craft  righted. 

"But  maybe  the  spars  wouldn't  stand,"  said  the  boy, 
anxiously. 

"  'T  is  what  I  'm  thinking,"  rejoined  the  father.  "  There 's 
a  shake  in  the  mast,  below  the  caps." 

"Tell  him  it's  better  to  bear  up,  and  go  before  it,"  whis- 
pered the  lad,  with  a  gesture  towards  where  I  was  lying. 

"  Troth,  it's  little  he  'd  care,"  said  the  other ;  "  besides,  he 's 
never  plazed  to  be  woke  up." 

"  Here  it  comes  again,"  cried  the  boy.  But  this  time  the 
squall  swept  past  ahead  of  us,  and  the  craft  only  reeled  to 
the  swollen  waves,  as  they  tore  by. 

"  We  'd  better  go  about,  sir,"  said  Tom  to  me  ;  "  there  's  a 
heavy  sea  outside,  and  it's  blowing  hard  now." 

"  And  there  's  a  split  in  the  mast  as  long  as  my  arm,"  cried 
the  boy. 

"I  thought  she'd  live  through  any  sea,  Tom!  "  said  I, 
laughing ;  for  it  was  his  constant  boast  that  no  weather  could 
harm  her. 

"There  goes  the  spar!"  shouted  he,  while  with  a  loud 
snap  the  mast  gave  way,  and  fell  with  a  crash  over  the  side. 
The  boat  immediately  came  head  to  wind,  and  sea  after  sea 
broke  upon  her  bow,  and  fell  in  great  floods  over  us. 

"  Cut  away  the  stays  !  clear  the  wreck,"  cried  Tom,  "  be- 
fore the  squall  catches  her !  " 

And  although  we  now  labored  like  men  whose  lives  de- 
pended on  the  exertion,  the  trailing  sail  and  heavy  rigging, 
shifting  the  ballast  as  they  fell,  laid  her  completely  over ;  and 
when  the  first  sea  struck  her,  over  she  went.  The  violence  of 
the  gale  sent  me  a  considerable  distance  out,  and  for  several 
seconds  I  felt  as  though  I  should  never  reach  the  surface 
again.  Wave  after  wave  rolled  over  me,  and  seemed  bearing 
me  downwards  with  their  weight.  At  last  I  grasped  some- 
thing ;  it  was  a  rope,  a  broken  halyard ;  but  by  its  means  I 
gained  the  mast,  which  floated  alongside  of  the  yawl  as  she 
now  lay  keel  uppermost.  With  what  energy  did  I  struggle 
to  reach  her !  The  space  was  scarcely  a  dozen  feet,  and  yet 
it  cost  me  what  seemed  an  age  to  traverse.  Through  all  the 
roaring  of  the  breakers  and  the  crashing  sounds  of  storm 


308  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

I  thought  I  could  hear  my  comrades'  voices  shouting  and 
screaming  ;  but  this  was  in  all  likelihood  a  mere  deception,  for 
I  never  saw  them  more  ! 

Grasping  with  a  death-grip  the  slippery  keel,  I  hung  on 
the  boat  through  all  the  night.  The  gale  continued  to  increase, 
and  by  daybreak  it  blew  a  perfect  hurricane.  With  an  aching 
anxiety  I  watched  for  light  to  see  if  I  were  near  the  land,  or 
if  any  ship  were  in  sight;  but  when  the  sun  rose,  nothing 
met  my  eyes  but  a  vast  expanse  of  waves  tumbling  and  toss- 
ing in  mad  confusion,  while  overhead  some  streaked  and 
mottled  clouds  were  hurried  along  with  the  wind.  Happily 
for  me,  I  have  no  correct  memory  of  that  long  day  of  suffer- 
ing. The  continual  noise,  but  more  still  the  incessant  motion 
of  sea  and  sky  around,  brought  on  a  vertigo  that  seemed 
lilve  madness ;  and  although  the  instinct  of  self-preservation 
remained,  the  wildest  and  most  incoherent  fancies  filled  my 
brain.  Some  of  these  were  powerful  enough  to  impress 
themselves  upon  my  memory  for  years  after,  and  one  I  have 
never  yet  been  able  to  dispel.  It  clings  to  me  in  every  season 
of  unusual  depression  or  dejection  ;  it  recurs  in  the  half  night- 
mare sleep  of  over-fatigue,  and  even  invades  me  when,  restless 
and  feverish,  I  lie  for  hours  incapable  of  repose.  This  is  the 
notion  that  my  state  was  one  of  after-life  punishment ;  that  I 
had  died,  and  was  now  expiating  a  sinful  life  by  the  everlast- 
ing misery  of  a  castaway.  The  fever  brought  on  by  thirst 
and  exhaustion,  and  the  burning  sun  which  -beamed  down 
upon  my  uncovered  head,  soon  completed  the  measure  of  this 
infatuation,  and  all  sense  and  guidance  left  me. 

By  what  instinctive  impulse  I  still  held  on  my  grasp  I 
cannot  explain ;  but  there  I  clung  during  the  whole  of  that 
long  dreadful  day  and  the  still  more  dreadful  night,  when 
the  piercing  cold  cramped  my  limbs  and  seemed  as  if  freez- 
ing the  very  blood  within  me.  It  was  no  wish  for  life,  it 
was  no  anxiety  to  save  myself,  that  now  filled  me.  It 
seemed  like  a  vague  impulse  of  necessity  that  compelled  me 
to  hang  on.  It  was,  as  it  were,  part  of  that  terrible  sentence 
which  made  this  my  doom  forever  I 

An  utter  unconsciousness  must  have  followed  this  state ; 
and  a  dreary  blank,  with  flitting  shapes  of  suffering,  is  all 
that  remains  to  my  recollection. 


A  BRIEF  CHANGE   OF  LIFE  AXD   COUNTRY.        309 

Probably  within  the  whole  range  of  human  sensations, 
there  is  not  one  so  perfect  in  its  calm  and  soothing  influence 
as  the  first  burst  of  gratitude  we  feel  when  recovering  from 
a  long  and  severe  illness.  There  is  not  an  object,  however 
humble  and  insignificant,  that  is  not  for  the  time  invested 
with  a  new  interest.  The  air  is  balmier,  flowers  are  sweeter, 
the  voices  of  friends,  the  smiles  and  kind  looks,  are  dearer 
and  fonder  than  we  have  ever  known  them.  The  whole 
world  has  put  on  a  new  aspect  for  us,  and  we  have  not  a 
thought  that  is  not  teeming  with  forgiveness  and  affection. 
Such,  in  all  then-  completeness,  were  my  feelings  as  I  lay  on 
the  poop-deck  of  a  large  three-masted  ship,  which,  with  stud- 
ding and  top-gallant  sails  all  set,  proudly  held  her  course  up 
the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence. 

She  was  a  Dantzig  barque,  the  "  Hoffnung,"  bound  for 
Quebec, — her  only  passengers  being  a  Moravian  minister 
and  his  wife,  on  their  way  to  join  a  small  German  colony 
established  near  Lake  Champlain.  To  Gottfried  Kroller  and 
his  dear  little  wife  I  owe  not  life  alone,  but  nearly  all  that 
has  made  it  valuable.  With  means  barely  removed  from 
absolute  poverty,  I  found  that  they  had  spared  nothing  to 
assist  in  my  recovery ;  for,  when  discovered,  emaciation  and 
wasting  had  so  far  reduced  me  that  nothing  but  the  most 
unremitting  care  and  kindness  could  have  succeeded  in 
restoring  me.  To  this  end  they  bestowed  not  only  their 
whole  time  and  attention,  but  every  little  delicacy  of  their 
humble  sea-store.  All  the  little  cordials  and  restoratives 
meant  for  a  season  of  sickness  or  debility  were  lavished 
unsparingly  on  me,  and  every  instinct  of  national  thrift  and 
carefulness  gave  way  before  the  more  powerful  influence  of 
Christian  benevolence. 

I  can  think  of  nothing  but  that  bright  morning,  as  I  lay 
on  a  mattress  on  the  deck,  with  the  Pfarrer  on  one  side  of 
me,  and  his  good  little  wife  Lyschen  on  the  other,  —  he  with 
his  volume  of  Wieland,  and  she  working  away  with  her  long 
knitting-needles,  and  never  raising  her  head  save  to  bestow 
a  glance  at  the  poor  sick  boy,  whose  bloodless  lips  were  try- 
ing to  mutter  her  name  in  thankfulness.  It  is  like  the  most 
delicious  dream  as  I  think  over  those  hours,  when,  rocked  by 
the  surging  motion  of  the  large  ship,  hearing  in  half  distinct- 


310  MAURICE   TIERNAT. 

ness  the  words  of  the  Pfarrer's  reading,  I  followed  out  little 
fancies, — now  self-originating,  now  rising  from  the  theme 
of  the  poet 's  musings. 

How  softly  the  cloud- shadows  moved  over  the  white  sails 
and  swept  along  the  bright  deck  I  How  pleasantly  the 
water  rippled  against  the  vessel's  side !  With  what  a  glad 
sound  the  great  ensign  flapped  and  fluttered  in  the  breeze ! 
There  was  light  and  life  and  motion  on  eveiy  side,  and  I  felt 
all  the  intoxication  of  enjoyment. 

And  like  a  dream  was  the  portion  of  my  life  which  fol- 
lowed. I  accompanied  the  Pfarrer  to  a  small  settlement 
near  Crown  Point,  where  he  was  to  take  up  his  residence  as 
minister.  Here  we  lived  amid  a  population  of  about  four  or 
five  hundred  Germans,  principally  from  Pomerania  on  the 
shores  of  the  Baltic,  —  a  peaceful,  thrifty,  quiet  set  of  beings, 
who,  content  with  the  little  interests  revolving  around  them- 
selves, never  troubled  their  heads  about  the  great  events  of 
war  or  politics ;  and  here  in  all  likelihood  should  I  have  been 
content  to  pass  m}^  days,  when  an  accidental  journey  I  made 
to  Albany,  to  receive  some  letters  for  the  Pfarrer,  once  more 
turned  the  fortune  of  my  life. 

It  was  a  great  incident  in  the  quiet  monotony  of  my  life 
when  I  set  out  one  morning,  arrayed  in  a  full  suit  of  coarse, 
glossy  black,  with  buttons  like  small  saucers,  and  a  hat 
whose  brim  almost  protected  my  shoulders.  I  was,  indeed, 
an  object  of  very  considerable  envy  to  some,  and,  I  hope 
also,  not  denied  the  admiring  approval  of  some  others.  Had 
the  respectable  city  I  was  about  to  visit  been  the  chief 
metropolis  of  a  certain  destination  which  I  must  not  name, 
the  warnings  I  received  about  its  dangers,  dissipations,  and 
seductions  could  scarcely  have  been  more  earnest  or  impres- 
sive. I  was  neither  to  speak  with,  nor  even  to  look  at, 
those  J.  met  in  the  streets.  I  was  carefully  to  avoid  taking 
my  meals  at  any  of  the  public  eating-houses,  rigidly  guard- 
ing myself  from  the  contamination  of  even  a  chance  ac- 
quaintance. It  was  deemed  as  needless  to  caution  me 
against  theatres  or  places  of  amusement,  as  to  hint  to  me 
that  I  should  not  commit  a  highway  robbery  or  a  murder ; 
and  so,  in  sooth,  I  should  myself  have  felt  it.  The  patri- 
archal simplicity  in  which  I  had  lived  for  above  a  year  had 


A  BRIEF   CHANGE   OF  LIFE   AND   COUNTRY.       311 

not  been  without  its  effect  in  subduing  exaggerated  feeling, 
or  controlling  that  passion  for  excitement  so  common  to 
youth.  I  felt  a  kind  of  drowsy,  dreamy  languor  over  me, 
which  I  sincerely  believed  represented  a  pious  and  well-regu- 
lated temperament.  Perhaps  in  time  it  might  have  become 
such.  Perhaps  with  others,  more  happily  constituted,  the 
impression  would  have  been  confirmed  and  fixed ;  but  in  my 
case  it  was  a  mere  lacquer,  that  the  first  rubbing  in  the  world 
was  sure  to  brush  off. 

I  arrived  safely  at  Albany,  and  having  presented  myself 
at  the  bank  of  Gabriel  Shultze,  was  desired  to  call  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  when  all  the  letters  and  papers  of  Gottfried 
Kroller  should  be  delivered  to  me.  A  very  cold  invitation 
to  supper  was  the  only  hospitality  extended  to  me.  This  I 
declined  on  pretext  of  weariness,  and  set  out  to  explore  the 
town,  to  which  my  long  residence  in  rural  life  imparted  a 
high  degree  of  interest. 

I  don't  know  what  it  may  now  be,  —  doubtless  a  great 
capital  like  one  of  the  European  cities ;  but  at  that  time  I 
speak  of  Albany  was  a  strange,  incongruous  assemblage  of 
stores  and  wooden  houses,  great  buildings  like  granaries, 
with  whole  streets  of  low  sheds  around  them,  where,  open 
to  the  passer-by,  men  worked  at  various  trades,  and  people 
followed  out  the  various  duties  of  domestic  life  in  sight  of 
the  public.  Daughters  knitted  and  sewed ;  mothers  cooked, 
and  nursed  their  children ;  men  ate  and  worked  and  smoked 
and  sang,  as  if  in  all  the  privacy  of  closed  dwellings,  while 
a  thick  current  of  population  poured  by,  apparently  too 
much  immersed  in  their  own  cares  or  too  much  accustomed 
to  the  scene  to  give  it  more  than  passing  notice. 

It  was  curious  how  one  bred  and  born  in  the  great  city  of 
Paris,  with  all  its  sights  and  sounds  and  scenes  of  excite- 
ment and  display,  could  have  been  so  rusticated  by  time  as 
to  feel  a  lively  interest  in  surveying  the  motley  aspect  of 
this  quaint  town.  There  were,  it  is  true,  features  in  the 
picture  very  unlike  the  figures  in  Old  World  landscape.  A 
group  of  red  men,  seated  around  a  fire  in  the  open  street,  or 
a  squaw  carrying  on  her  back  a  baby  firmly  tied  to  a  piece 
of  curs^ed  bark ;  a  southern  stater,  with  a  spanking  wagon- 
team,   and  two  grinning  negroes  behind, — were  new  and 


312  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

strange  elements  in  the  life  of  a  city.  Still,  the  mere  move- 
ment, the  actual  bus}^  stir  and  occupation  of  the  inhabitants, 
attracted  me  as  much  as  anything  else ;  and  the  shops  and 
stalls,  where  trades  were  carried  on,  were  a  seduction  I  could 
not  resist. 

The  strict  puritanism  in  which  I  had  lately  lived  taught 
me  to  regard  all  these  things  with  a  certain  degree  of  dis- 
trust. They  were  the  impulses  of  that  gold-seeking  passion 
of  which  Gottfried  had  spoken  so  frequently ;  they  were  the 
great  vice  of  that  civilization  whose  luxurious  tendency  he 
often  deplored.  And  here,  now,  more  than  one  half  around 
me,  were  arts  that  only  ministered  to  voluptuous  tastes. 
Brilliant  articles  of  jewelry,  gay  cloaks  worked  with  wampam 
in  Indian  taste,  ornamental  turning  and  costly  weapons  inlaid 
with  gold  and  silver,  succeeded  each  other,  street  after 
street ;  and  the  very  sight  of  them,  however  pleasurable  to 
the  eye,  set  me  a-moralizing  in  a  strain  that  would  have 
done  credit  to  a  son  of  Geneva.  It  might  have  been  that  in 
my  enthusiasm  I  uttered  half  aloud  what  I  intended  for 
soliloquy  ;  or  perhaps  some  gesture,  or  peculiarity  of  manner, 
had  the  effect ;  but  so  it  was :  I  found  m3^self  an  object  of 
notice ;  and  my  queer-cut  coat  and  wide  hat,  contrasting  so 
strangely  with  my  youthful  appearance  and  slender  make, 
drew  many  a  criticism  on  me. 

"  He  ain't  a  Quaker,  that's  a  fact,"  cried  one ;  "  for  they 
don't  wear  black." 

"He's  a  down-easter,  —  a  horse- jockey  chap,  I'll  be 
bound,"  cried  another.  "They  put  on  all  manner  of  dis- 
guises and  masqueroonings.     I  know  'em  !  " 

"  He 's  a  calf  preacher,  —  a  young  bottle-nosed  Gospeller," 
broke  in  a  thick,  short  fellow,  like  the  skipper  of  a  merchant 
ship.     "  Let's  have  him  out  for  a  preachment." 

"Ay,  you're  right,"  chimed  in  another.  "I'll  get  you  a 
sugar  hogshead  in  no  time ;  "  and  away  he  ran  on  the 
mission. 

Between  twenty  and  thirty  persons  had  now  collected ; 
and  I  saw  myself,  to  my  unspeakable  shame  and  mortifica- 
tion, the  centre  of  all  their  looks  and  speculations.  A  little 
more  aplovih  or  knowledge  of  life  would  have  taught  me 
coolness  enough  in  a  few  words  to  undeceive  them ;  but  such 


A   BRIEF   CHANGE   OF  LIFE   AND   COUNTRY.        313 

a  task  was  far  above  me  now,  and  I  saw  nothing  for  it  but 
flight.  Could  I  only  have  known  which  way  to  take,  I  need 
not  have  feared  any  pursuer,  —  for  I  was  a  capital  runner, 
and  in  high  condition ;  but  of  the  locality  I  was  utterly  igno- 
rant, and  should  only  surrender  myself  to  mere  chance. 
With  a  bold  rush,  then,  I  dashed  right  through  the  crowd, 
and  set  off  down  the  street,  the  whole  crew  after  me.  The 
dusk  of  the  closing  evening  was  in  my  favor ;  and  although 
volunteers  were  enlisted  in  the  chase  at  every  corner  and 
turning,  I  distanced  them,  and  held  on  my  way  in  advance. 
My  great  object  being  not  to  turn  on  my  course,  lest  I 
should  come  back  to  my  starting  point,  I  directed  my  steps 
nearly  straight  onward,  clearing  apple-stalls  and  fruit-tables 
at  a  bound,  and  more  than  once  taking  a  flying  leap  over  an 
Indian's  fire,  when  the  mad  shout  of  the  red  man  would 
swell  the  chorus  that  followed  me.  At  last  I  reached  a  net- 
work of  narrow  lanes  and  alleys,  by  turning  and  wending 
through  which  I  speedily  found  myself  in  a  quiet  secluded 
spot,  with  here  and  there  a  flickering  candle-light  from  the 
windows,  but  no  other  sign  of  habitation.  I  looked  anx- 
iously about  for  an  open  door ;  but  they  were  all  safe  barred 
and  fastened,  and  it  was  only  on  turning  a  corner  I  spied 
what  seemed  to  me  a  little  shop,  with  a  solitary  lamp  over 
the  entrance.  A  narrow  canal,  crossed  by  a  rickety  old 
bridge,  led  to  this ;  and  the  moment  I  had  crossed  over,  I 
seized  the  single  plank  which  formed  the  footway,  and 
shoved  it  into  the  stream.  My  retreat  being  thus  secured,  I 
opened  the  door,  and  entered.  It  was  a  barber's  shop, — at 
least,  so  a  great  chair  before  a  cracked  old  looking-glass, 
with  some  well-worn  combs  and  brushes,  bespoke  it ;  but  the 
place  seemed  untenanted,  and  although  I  called  aloud  several 
times,  none  came  or  responded  to  my  summons. 

I  now  took  a  sui'\^ey  of  the  spot,  which  seemed  of  the 
poorest  imaginable.  A  few  empty  pomatum  pots,  a  case 
of  razors  that  might  have  defied  the  most  determined  suicide, 
and  a  half-finished  wig  on  a  block  painted  like  a  red  man 
were  the  entire  stock-in-trade.  On  the  walls,  however,  were 
some  colored  prints  of  the  battles  of  the  French  army  in 
Germany  and  Italy.  Execrably  done  things  they  were,  but 
full  of  meaning  and  interest  to  my  eyes  in  spite  of  that. 


314  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

With  all  the  faults  of  drawing  and  all  the  travesties  of  cos- 
tume, I  could  recognize  different  corps  of  the  service ;  and 
my  heart  bounded  as  I  gazed  on  the  tall  shakos  swarming  to 
a  breach,  or  the  loose  jacket  as  it  floated  from  the  hussar  in 
a  charge.  All  the  wild  pleasures  of  soldiering  rose  once 
more  to  my  miyd,  and  I  thought  over  old  comrades  who 
doubtless  were  now  earning  the  high  rewards  of  thek  bravery 
in  the  great  career  of  glory.  And  as  I  did  so,  my  own 
image  confronted  me  in  the  glass,  as  with  long,  lank  hair, 
and  a  great  bolster  of  a  white  cravat,  I  stood  before  it. 
What  a  contrast !  how  unlike  the  smart  hussar,  with  curling 
locks  and  fierce  mustache  !  Was  I  as  much  changed  in  heart 
as  in  looks?  Had  my  spirit  died  out  within  me?  Would 
the  proud  notes  of  the  bugle  or  the  trumpet  fall  meaningless 
on  my  ears,  or  the  hoarse  cry  of  "  Charge !  "  send  no  burst- 
ing fulness  to  my  temples  ?  Ay,  even  these  coarse  repre- 
sentations stirred  the  blood  in  my  veins,  and  my  step  grew 
firmer  as  I  walked  the  room. 

In  a  passionate  bui'st  of  enthusiasm,  I  tore  off  my  slouched 
hat  and  hurled  it  from  me.  It  felt  lilve  the  badge  of  some 
ignoble  slavery,  and  I  determined  to  endui-e  it  no  longer. 
The  noise  of  the  act  called  up  a  voice  from  the  inner  room, 
and  a  man,  to  all  appearance  suddenly  roused  from  sleep, 
stood  at  the  door.  He  was  evidently  young ;  but  poverty, 
dissipation,  and  raggedness  made  the  question  of  his  age  a 
difficult  one  to  solve.  A  light-colored  mustache  and  beard 
covered  all  the  lower  part  of  his  face,  and  his  long  blonde 
hair  fell  heavily  over  his  shoulders. 

"  Well,"  cried  he,  half  angrily,  "  what 's  the  matter?  Are 
you  so  impatient  that  you  must  smash  the  furniture  ?  " 

Although  the  words  were  spoken  as  correctly  as  I  have 
written  them,  they  were  uttered  with  a  foreign  accent ;  and 
hazarding  the  stroke,  I  answered  him  in  French  by  apolo- 
gizing for  the  noise. 

"  What !  a  Frenchman,"  exclaimed  he,  "  and  in  that  dress  ! 
What  can  that  mean  ?  " 

"  If  you'll  shut  your  door,  and  cut  off  pursuit  of  me,  I  '11 
tell  you  everything,"  said  I,  "  f or  I  hear  the  voices  of  people 
coming  down  that  street  in  front." 

"  I  '11  do  better,"  said  he,  quickly ;  "  I  '11  upset  the  bridge, 
and  they  cannot  come  over." 


A  BRIEF  CHANGE   OF  LIFE   AND   COUNTRY.       315 

"That's  clone  already,"  replied  I;  "I  shoved  it  into  the 
stream  as  I  passed." 

He  looked  at  me  steadily  for  a  moment  without  speaking, 
and  then  approaching  close  to  me  said,  ^^  Parbleu !  the 
act  was  very  unlike  your  costume  !  "  At  the  same  time  he 
shut  the  door,  and  drew  a  strong  bar  across  it.  This  done, 
he  turned  to  me  once  more,  —  "  Now  for  it!  who  are  you, 
and  what  has  happened  to  you?  " 

"As  to  what  I  am,"  replied  I,  imitating  his  own  abrupt- 
ness, "  my  dress  would  almost  save  the  trouble  of  explaining ; 
these  Albany  folk,  however,  would  make  a  field-preacher  of 
me,  and  to  escape  them  I  took  to  flight." 

"Well,  if  a  fellow  will  wear  his  hair  that  fashion,  he 
must  take  the  consequence,"  said  he,  drawing  out  my  long 
lank  locks  as  they  hung  over  my  shoulders.  "  And  so  you 
would  n't  hold  forth  for  them,  — not  even  give  them  a  stave 
of  a  conventicle  chant  ?  "  He  kept  his  eyes  riveted  on  me 
as  he  spoke,  and  then  seizing  two  pieces  of  stick  from  the 
firewood,  he  beat  on  the  table  the  rantan-plan  of  the  French 
drum.  "  That's  the  music  you  know  best,  lad,  eh?  That's 
the  air,  which,  if  it  has  not  led  heavenward,  has  conducted 
many  a  brave  fellow  out  of  this  world  at  least:  do  you 
forget  it  ?  " 

"Forget  it!  no,"  cried  I;  "but  who  are  you;  and  how 
comes  it  that  —  that  — "  I  stopped  in  confusion  at  the 
rudeness  of  the  question  I  had  begun. 

"  That  I  stand  here,  half -fed,  and  all  but  naked ;  a  barber 
in  a  land  where  men  don't  shave  once  a  month?  Parbleu! 
they  'd  come  even  seldomer  to  my  shop  if  they  knew  how 
tempted  I  feel  to  draw  the  razor  sharp  and  quick  across  the 
gullet  of  a  fellow  with  a  well-stocked  pouch." 

As  he  continued  to  speak,  his  voice  assumed  a  tone  and 
cadence  that  sounded  familiar  to  my  ears  as  I  stared  at  him 
in  amazement. 

"  Not  know  me  yet !  "  exclaimed  he,  laughing ;  "  and  yet 
all  this  poverty  and  squalor  is  n't  as  great  a  disguise  as  your 
own,  Tiernay.  Come,  lad,  rub  your  eyes  a  bit,  and  try  if 
you  can't  recognize  an  old  comrade." 

"I  know  you,  yet  cannot  remember  how  or  where  we 
met,"  said  I,  in  bewilderment. 


316  MAURICE    TIERNAY. 

"I'll  refresh  your  meniory,"  said  he,  crossing  his  arms, 
and  drawing  himself  proudly  up.  "If  you  can  trace  back 
in  your  mind  to  a  certain  hot  and  dusty  day,  on  the  Metz 
road,  when  you,  a  private  in  the  Seventh  Hussars,  were 
eating  an  onion  and  a  slice  of  black  bread  for  3^our  dinner, 
a  young  officer,  well  looking  and  well  mounted,  cantered  up 
and  threw  3^ou  his  brandy  flask.  Your  acknowledgment  of 
the  civility  showed  you  to  be  a  gentleman  ;  and  the  acquaint- 
ance thus  opened  soon  ripened  into  intimacy." 

"But  he  was  the  young  Marquis  de  Saint  Trone,"  said  I, 
perfectly  remembering  the  incident. 

"Or  Eugene  Santron,  of  the  republican  army,  or  the 
barber  at  Albany,  without  any  name  at  all,"  said  he,  laugh- 
ing.    "  What,  Maurice,  don't  you  know  me  yet?  " 

"What,  the  lieutenant  of  my  regiment?  The  dashing 
officer  of  hussars  ?  " 

"Just  so,  and  as  ready  to  resume  the  old  skin  as  ever," 
cried  he,  "and  brandish  a  weapon  somewhat  longer  and 
perhaps  somewhat  sharper,  too,  than  a  razor." 

We  shook  hands  with  all  the  cordiality  of  old  comrades, 
meeting  far  away  from  home  and  in  a  land  of  strangers ; 
and  although  each  was  full  of  curiosity  to  learn  the  other's 
history,  a  kind  of  reserve  held  back  the  inquir}^,  till  Santron 
said :  — 

"  My  confession  is  soon  made,  Maurice  ;  I  left  the  sei-^^ice 
in  the  Meuse,  to  escape  being  shot.  One  day,  on  returning 
from  a  field  manoeuvre,  I  discovered  that  ni}^  portmanteau 
had  been  opened,  and  a  number  of  letters  and  papers  taken 
out.  They  were  part  of  a  correspondence  I  held  with  old 
General  Lamarre,  about  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons,  — 
a  subject,  I  'm  certain,  that  half  the  officers  in  the  army 
were  interested  in,  and,  even  to  Bonaparte  himself,  deeply 
implicated  in,  too.  No  matter ;  my  treason,  as  they  called 
it,  was  too  flagrant,  and  I  had  just  twenty  minutes'  start 
of  the  order  which  was  issued  for  my  arrest  to  make  my 
escape  into  Holland.  There  I  managed  to  pass  several 
months  in  various  disguises,  part  of  the  time  being  emploj-ed 
as  a  Dutch  spy,  and  actuall}'^  charged  with  an  order  to 
discover  tidings  of  myself,  until  I  finally  got  away  in  an 
Antwerp  schooner  to  New  York.  From  that  time  my  life 
has  been  nothing  but  a  struggle,  —  a  hard  one,  too,  with 


A  BRIEF   CHANGE   OF   LIFE    AND   COUNTRY.        317 

actual  want ;   for  in  this  land  of  enterprise  and  activit}',  mere 
intelligence,  without  some  craft  or  calling,  will  do  nothing. 

"I  tried  fifty  things:  to  teach  riding, — and  when  I 
mounted  into  the  saddle,  I  forgot  everything  but  my  own 
enjoyment,  and  caracoled  and  plunged  and  passaged,  till 
the  poor  beast  had  n't  a  leg  to  stand  on  ;  fencing,  —  and  I 
got  into  a  duel  with  a  rival  teacher,  and  ran  him  through  the 
neck,  and  was  obliged  to  fly  from  New  York ;  French,  —  I 
made  love  to  my  pupil,  a  pretty  looking  Dutch  girl,  whose 
father  did  n't  smile  on  our  affection ;  and  so  on.  I  descended 
from  a  dancing-master  to  a  waiter,  a  lacquais  de  j)lo.ce^  and 
at  last  settled  down  as  a  barber,  which  brilliant  speculation 
I  had  just  determined  to  abandon  this  very  night ;  for  to- 
morrow morning,  Maurice,  I  start  for  New  York  and  France 
again.  Ay,  boy,  and  you  '11  go  with  me.  This  is  no  land 
for  either  of  us." 

"  But  I  have  found  happiness,  at  least  contentment,  here," 
said  I,  gravely. 

' '  What !  play  the  hypocrite  with  an  old  comrade  !  Shame 
on  you,  Maurice  !  "  cried  he.  "  It  is  these  confounded  locks 
have  perverted  the  boy,"  added  he,  jumping  up ;  and  before 
I  knew  what  he  was  about,  he  had  shorn  my  hair,  in  two 
quick  cuts  of  the  scissors,  close  to  the  head.  "  There,"  said 
he,  throwing  the  cut-off  haii*  towards  me,  "there  lies  all 
3^our  saintship ;  depend  upon  it,  boy,  they  'd  hunt  you  out  of 
the  settlement  if  you  came  back  to  them  cropped  in  this 
fashion." 

"  But  you  return  to  certain  death,  Santron,"  said  I ;  "  3'our 
crime  is  too  recent  to  be  forgiven  or  forgotten." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !  Fouche,  Cassaubon,  and  a  dozen  others, 
now  in  office,  were  deeper  than  I  was.  There  's  not  a  public 
man  in  France  could  stand  an  exposure,  or  hazard  recrimin- 
ation. It 's  a  thieves'  amnesty  at  this  moment,  and  I  must 
not  lose  the  opportunity.  I  '11  show  you  letters  that  will 
prove  it,  Maurice ;  for,  poor  and  ill-fed  as  I  am,  I  like  life 
just  as  well  as  ever  I  did.  I  mean  to  be  a  general  of  division 
one  of  these  days ;  and  so  will  you  too,  lad,  if  there  's  any 
spirit  left  in  you." 

Thus  did  Santron  rattle  on,  —  sometimes  of  himself  and 
his  own  future,  sometimes  discussing  mine ;  for,  while  talk- 
ing, he  had  contrived  to  learn  all  the  chief  particulars  of  my 


318  MAURICE  TIERNAT. 

history,  from  the  time  of  my  sailing  from  La  Rochelle  for 
Ireland. 

The  unlucky  expedition  afforded  him  great  amusement, 
and  he  was  never  weary  of  laughing  at  all  our  adventures 
and  mischances  in  Ireland.  Of  Humbert  he  spoke  as  a 
fourth  or  fifth-rate  man,  and  actually  shocked  me  by  all 
the  heresies  he  uttered  against  our  generals  and  the  plan 
of  campaign ;  but  perhaps  I  could  have  borne  even  these 
better  than  the  sarcasms  and  sneers  at  the  little  life  of 
*'the  settlement."  He  treated  all  my  efforts  at  defence  as 
mere  hypocris}^,  and  affected  to  regard  me  as  a  mere  knave, 
that  had  traded  on  the  confiding  kindness  of  these  simple 
villagers.  I  could  not  undeceive  him  on  this  head,  nor, 
what  was  more,  could  I  satisfy  my  own  conscience  that  he 
was  altogether  in  the  wrong ;  for,  with  a  diabolical  inge- 
nuit}^,  he  had  contrived  to  hit  on  some  of  the  most  vexatious 
doubts  which  disturbed  my  mind,  and  instinctively  to  detect 
the  secret  cares  and  difficulties  that  beset  me.  The  lesson 
should  never  be  lost  on  us,  that  the  devil  was  depicted  as  a 
sneerer !  I  verily  believe  the  powers  of  temptation  have  no 
such  advocacy  as  sarcasm.  Many  can  resist  the  softest 
seductions  of  vice ;  many  are  proof  against  all  the  blandish- 
ments of  mere  enjoyment,  come  in  what  shape  it  will,  —  but 
how  few  can  stand  firm  against  the  assaults  of  clever  irony, 
or  hold  fast  to  their  convictions  when  assailed  by  the  sharp 
shafts  of  witty  depreciation  ! 

I  am  ashamed  to  own  how  little  I  could  oppose  to  all  his 
impertinences  about  our  village  and  its  habits,  —  or  how  im- 
possible I  found  it  not  to  laugh  at  his  absurd  descriptions 
of  a  life  which,  without  having  ever  witnessed,  he  depicted 
with  a  rare  accuracy.  He  was  shrewd  enough  not  to  push 
this  ridicule  offensivel}^ ;  and  long  before  I  knew  it,  I  found 
myself  regarding  with  his  eyes  a  picture  in  which  but  a  few 
months  back  I  stood  as  a  foreground  figure.  I  ought  to 
confess  that  no  artificial  aid  was  derived  from  either  good 
cheer  or  the  graces  of  hospitality ;  we  sat  by  a  miserable 
lamp,  in  a  wretchedly  cold  chamber,  our  sole  solace  some 
bad  cigars  and  a  can  of  flat  stale  cider. 

' '  I  have  not  a  morsel  to  offer  you  to  eat,  Maurice  ;  but  to- 
morrow we  '11  breakfast  on  mj'  razors,  dine  on  that  old  look- 
ing-glass, and  sup  on  two  hard  brushes  and  the  wig !  " 


A  BRIEF  CHANGE  OF  LIFE  AND   COUNTRY.        319 

Such  were  the  brilliant  pledges,  and  we  closed  a  talk  which 
the  flickering  lamp  at  last  put  an  end  to. 

A  broken,  unconnected  conversation  followed  for  a  little 
time  ;  but  at  length,  worn  out  and  wearied,  each  dropped  off 
to  sleep,  —  Eugene  on  the  straw  settle,  and  I  in  the  old 
chair,  —  never  to  awake  till  the  bright  sun  was  streaming  in 
between  the  shutters,  and  dancing  merrily  on  the  tiled  floor. 

An  hour  before  I  awoke,  he  had  completed  the  sale  of  all 
his  little  stock-in-trade,  and,  with  a  last  look  round  the  spot 
where  he  had  passed  some  months  of  struggling  poverty,  out 
we  sallied  into  the  town. 

"We'll  breakfast  at  Jonathan  Hone's,"  said  Santron ; 
"it's  the  first  place  here.  I'll  treat  you  to  rump-steaks, 
pumpkin  pie,  and  a  gin  twister  that  will  astonish  you.  Then, 
while  I  'm  arranging  for  our  passage  down  the  Hudson, 
you  '11  see  the  hospitable  banker,  and  tell  him  how  to  forward 
all  his  papers  and  so  forth  to  the  settlement,  with  your 
respectful  compliments  and  regrets,  and  the  rest  of  it." 

' '  But  am  I  to  take  leave  of  them  in  this  fashion  ? " 
asked  I. 

"Without  you  want  me  to  accompany  you  there,  I  think 
it's  by  far  the  best  way,"  said  he,  laughingly.  "  If,  how- 
ever, you  think  that  my  presence  and  companionship  will 
add  any  lustre  to  your  position,  say  the  word,  and  I  'm  ready. 
I  know  enough  of  the  barber's  craft  now  to  make  up  a  head 
en  Puritan;  and,  if  you  wish,  I'll  pledge  myself  to  impose 
upon  the  whole  colony." 

Here  was  a  threat  there  was  no  mistaking ;  and  any  impu- 
tation of  ingratitude  on  my  part  were  far  preferable  to  the 
thought  of  such  an  indignity.  He  saw  his  advantage  at 
once,  and  boldly  declared  that  nothing  should  separate  us. 

"  The  greatest  favor,  my  dear  Maurice,  you  can  ever  expect 
at  my  hands  is,  never  to  speak  of  this  freak  of  yours ;  or,  if 
I  do,  to  say  that  you  performed  the  part  to  perfection." 

My  mind  was  in  one  of  those  moods  of  change  when  the 
slightest  impulse  is  enough  to  sway  it,  and  more  from  this 
cause  than  all  his  persuasion  I  yielded ;  and  the  same  even- 
ing saw  me  gliding  down  the  Hudson,  and  admiring  the  bold 
Kaatskills,  on  our  way  to  New  York. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


THE    ATHOL    TENDER. 


As  I  cast  my  eyes  over  these  pages,  and  see  how  small  a  por- 
tion of  my  life  they  embrace,  I  feel  like  one  who,  having  a 
long  journey  before  him,  perceives  that  some  more  speedy 
means  of  travel  must  be  adopted  if  he  ever  hope  to  reach 
his  destination.  With  the  instinctive  prosiness  of  age  I  have 
lingered  over  the  scenes  of  boyhood,  —  a  period  which,  strange 
to  say,  is  fresher  in  my  memory  than  many  of  the  events  of 
few  years  back,  —  and  were  I  to  continue  my  narrative  as 
I  have  begun  it,  it  would  take  more  time  on  my  part  and 
more  patience  on  that  of  my  readers  than  are  likely  to  be 
conceded  to  either  of  us.  Were  I  to  apologize  to  my  readers 
for  any  abruptness  in  my  transitions,  or  any  want  of  con- 
tinuity in  my  story,  I  should  perhaps  inadvertently  seem 
to  imply  a  degree  of  interest  in  my  fate  which  they  have 
never  felt ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  I  would  not  for  a  moment 
be  thought  to  treat  slightingly  the  very  smallest  degree  of 
favor  they  may  feel  disposed  to  show  me.  With  these  diffi- 
culties on  either  hand,  I  see  nothing  for  it  but  to  limit  myself 
for  the  future  to  such  incidents  and  passages  of  my  career  as 
most  impressed  themselves  on  myself,  and  to  confine  my 
record  to  the  events  in  which  I  personally  took  a  share. 

Santron  and  I  sailed  from  New  York  on  the  9th  of 
February,  and  arrived  in  Liverpool  on  the  14th  of  March. 
We  landed  in  as  humble  a  guise  as  need  be.  One  small  box 
contained  all  our  effects,  and  a  little  leathern  purse,  with 
something  less  than  three  dollars,  all  our  available  wealth. 
The  immense  movement  and  stir  of  the  busy  town,  the  crash 
and  bustle  of  trade,  the  roll  of  wagons,  the  cranking  clatter 
of  cranes  and  windlasses,  the  incessant  flux  and  reflux  of 
population  all  eager  and  intent  on  business,  were  strange 
spectacles  to  our  eyes  as  we  loitered  houseless  and  friendless 


"THE  ATHOL  TENDER."  321 

through  the  streets,  staring  in  wonderment  at  the  wealth  and 
prosperity  of  that  laud  we  were  taught  to  believe  was  totter- 
ing to  baukruptC3\ 

Santrou  affected  to  be  pleased  with  all,  talked  of  the  heau 
pillage  it  would  afford  one  day  or  other ;  but  in  reality  this 
appearance  of  riches  and  prosperity  seemed  to  depress  and 
discourage  him.  Both  French  and  American  writers  had 
agreed  in  depicting  the  pauperism  and  discontent  of  England, 
and  yet  where  were  the  signs  of  it?  Not  a  house  was 
untenanted,  every  street  was  thronged,  every  market  filled ; 
the  equipages  of  the  wealthy  vied  with  the  loaded  wagons 
in  number ;  and  if  there  were  not  the  external  evidences  of 
happiness  and  enjoyment  the  gayer  population  of  other  coun- 
tries display,  there  was  an  air  of  well-being  and  comfort  such 
as  no  other  land  could  exhibit. 

Another  very  singular  trait  made  a  deep  impression  on  us. 
Here  were  these  islanders,  with  a  narrow  strait  only  sepa- 
rating them  from  a  land  bristling  with  bayonets ;  the  very 
roar  of  the  artillery  at  exercise  might  be  almost  heard  across 
the  gulf,  —  and  yet  not  a  soldier  was  to  be  seen  about ! 
There  were  neither  forts  nor  bastions.  The  harbor,  so 
replete  with  wealth,  lay  open  and  unprotected,  not  even  a 
gun-boat  or  a  guard-ship  to  defend  it !  There  was  an  inso- 
lence in  this  security  that  Santron  could  not  get  over,  and  he 
muttered  a  prayer  that  the  day  might  not  be  distant  that 
should  make  them  repent  it. 

He  was  piqued  with  everything.  While  on  board  ship  we 
had  agreed  together  to  pass  ourselves  for  Canadians,  to  avoid 
all  inquiries  of  the  authorities.  Heaven  help  us !  the  au- 
thorities never  thought  of  us.  We  were  free  to  go  or  stay 
as  we  pleased.  Neither  police  nor  passport  officers  ques- 
tioned us ;  we  might  have  been  Hoche  and  Massena  for 
aught  they  either  knew  or  cared.  Not  a  monchard  tracked 
us  ;  none  even  looked  after  us  as  we  went.  To  me  this  was 
all  very  agreeable  and  reassuring ;  to  my  companion  it  was 
contumely  and  insult.  All  the  ingenious  fiction  he  had 
devised  of  our  birth,  parentage,  and  pursuits  was  a  fine 
romance  inedited,  and  he  was  left  to  sneer  at  the  self-suffi- 
ciency that  would  not  take  alarm  at  the  advent  of  two  ragged 
youths  on  the  quay  of  Liverpool. 

21 


322  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"  If  they  but  knew  who  we  were,  Maurice,"  he  kept  con- 
tinually muttering  as  we  went  along,  —  "if  these  fellows  only 
knew  whom  they  had  in  their  town,  what  a  rumpus  it  would 
create  !  How  the  shops  would  close  !  What  barricading  of 
doors  and  windows  we  should  see,  what  bursts  of  terror 
and  patriotism !  Par  St.  Denis^  I  have  a  mind  to  throw  up 
my  cap  in  the  air  and  cry  '  Vive  la  Republique ! '  just  to 
witness  the  scene  that  would  follow." 

With  all  these  boastings,  it  was  not  very  difficult  to 
restrain  my  friend's  ardor,  and  to  induce  him  to  defer  his 
invasion  of  England  to  a  more  fitting  occasion ;  so  that  at 
last  he  was  fain  to  content  himself  with  a  sneering  commen- 
tary on  all  around  him,  and  in  this  amiable  spirit  we  descended 
into  a  very  dirty  cellar  to  eat  our  first  dinner  on  shore. 

The  place  was  filled  with  sailors,  who,  far  from  indulging 
in  the  well-known  careless  gayety  of  their  class,  seemed 
morose  and  sulk}^  talking  together  in  low  murmurs,  and 
showing  unmistakable  signs  of  discontent  and  dissatisfac- 
tion. The  reason  was  soon  apparent ;  the  press-gangs  were 
out  to  take  men  off  to  reinforce  the  blockading  force  before 
Genoa,  a  service  of  all  others  the  most  distasteful  to  a  sea- 
man. If  Santron  at  first  was  ready  to  flatter  himself  into 
the  notion  that  very  little  persuasion  would  make  these 
fellows  take  part  against  England,  as  he  listened  longer  he 
saw  the  grievous  error  of  the  opinion,  —  no  epithet  of  insult 
or  contempt  being  spared  by  them  when  talking  of  France  and 
Frenchmen.  Whatever  national  animosity  prevailed  at  that 
period  sailors  enjoj^ed  a  high  pre-eminence  in  feeling.  I 
have  heard  that  the  spirit  was  encouraged  by  those  in  com- 
mand, and  that  narratives  of  French  perfid3%  treachery,  and 
even  cowardice  were  the  popular  traditions  of  the  sea 
service.  We  certainly  could  not  controvert  the  old  adage  as 
to  "listeners,"  for  every  observation  and  every  anecdote 
conveyed  a  sneer  or  an  insult  on  our  country.  There  could 
be  no  reproach  in  listening  to  these  unresented ;  but  Santron 
assumed  a  most  indignant  air,  and  more  than  once  affected 
to  be  overcome  by  a  spirit  of  recrimination.  What  turn  his 
actions  might  have  taken  in  this  wise  I  cannot  even  guess, 
for  suddenly  a  rush  of  fellows  took  place  up  the  ladder ;  and 
in  less  than  a  minute  the  whole  cellar  was  cleared,  leaving 


"THE   ATHOL   TENDER."  323 

none  but  the  hostess  and  an  old  lame  waiter  along  with  our- 
selves in  the  place. 

"  You  've  got  a  protection,  I  suppose,  sirs,"  said  the  woman, 
approaching  us ;  "  but  still  I  '11  advise  you  not  to  trust  to  it 
over-much.  They  're  in  great  want  of  men  just  now ;  and 
they  care  little  for  law  or  justice  when  once  they  have  them 
on  the  high  seas." 

"We  have  no  protection,"  said  I;  "we  are  strangers 
here,  and  know  no  one." 

"There  they  come,  sir;  that's  the  tramp,"  cried  the 
woman  ;  "  there  's  nothing  for  it  now  but  to  stay  quiet  and 
hope  you'll  not  be  noticed.  Take  those  knives  up,  will  ye," 
said  she,  flinging  a  napkin  towards  me,  and  speaking  in  an 
altered  voice,  for  already  two  figures  were  darkening  the 
entrance,  and  peering  down  into  the  depth  below,  while  turn- 
ing to  Santron  she  motioned  to  him  to  remove  the  dishes  from 
the  table,  —  a  sei'\^ice  in  which,  to  do  him  justice,  he  exhibited 
a  zeal  more  flattering  to  his  tact  than  his  spirit  of  resistance. 

"  Tripped  their  anchors  already,  Mother  Martin?"  said  a 
large-whiskered  man,  with  a  black  belt  round  his  waist ; 
while,  passing  round  the  tables,  he  cramm.ed  into  his  mouth 
several  fragments  of  the  late  feast. 

"You  wouldn't  have  'em  wait  for  you.  Captain  John?" 
said  she,  laughing. 

"  It 's  just  what  I  would,  then,"  replied  he.  "  The  Admi- 
ralty has  put  thirty  shillings  more  on  the  bounty,  and  where 
will  these  fellows  get  the  like  of  that  ?  It  is  n't  a  AYest  India 
sel'^'ice,  neither,  nor  a  coastin'  cruise  off  Newfoundland,  but 
all  as  one  as  a  pleasure-trip  up  the  IMediterranean,  and 
nothing  to  fight  but  Frenchmen.  Eh,  younker,  that  tickles 
your  fancy,"  cried  he  to  Santron,  who,  in  spite  of  himself, 
made  some  gesture  of  impatience.  "Handy  chaps,  those, 
Mother  Martin;  where  did  you  chance  on  'em?" 

"  They're  sons  of  a  Canada  skipper  in  the  river  yonder," 
said  she,  calmly. 

"They  ar'n't  over  like  to  be  brothers,"  said  he,  with  the 
grin  of  one  too  well  accustomed  to  knavery  to  trust  anything 
opposed  to  his  own  observ^ation.  "  I  suppose  them  's  things 
happens  in  Canada  as  elsewhere,"  said  he,  laughing,  and 
hoping  the  jest  might  turn  her  flank.     Meanwhile  the  press- 


324  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

leader  never  took  his  eyes  off  me,  as  I  arranged  plates  and 
folded  napkins  with  all  the  skill  which  my  early  education  in 
Boivin's  restaurant  had  taught  me. 

"He  is  a  smart  one,"  said  he,  half-musingl3^  "I  say, 
boy,  would  you  like  to  go  as  cook's  aid  on  board  a  king's 
ship?     I  know  of  one  as  would  just  suit  you." 

"  I  'd  rather  not,  sir ;  I  'd  not  like  to  leave  my  father,"  said 
I,  backing  up  Mrs.  Martin's  narrative. 

"  Nor  that  brother  there,  —  would  n't  he  like  it?  " 

I  shook  my  head  negatively. 

"  Suppose  I  have  a  talk  with  the  skipper  about  it,"  said  he, 
looking  at  me  steadily  for  some  seconds.  "  Suppose  I  was 
to  tell  hun  what  a  good  berth  you'd  have,  eh?" 

''Oh,  if  he  wished  it,  I'd  make  no  objection,"  said  I, 
assuming  all  the  calmness  I  could. 

"  That  chap  ain't  your  brother,  an^  he  's  no  sailor  neither. 
Show  me  your  hands,  youngster,"  cried  he  to  Sautrou,  who 
at  once  complied  with  the  order,  and  the  press  captain  bent 
over  and  scanned  them  naiTOwly. 

As  he  thus  stood  with  his  back  to  me,  the  woman  shook 
her  head  significantly,  and  pointed  to  the  ladder.  If  ever  a 
glance  conveyed  a  whole  story  of  ten-or  hers  did.  I  looked 
at  my  companion  as  though  to  say,  "Can  I  desert  him?" 
and  the  expression  of  her  features  seemed  to  imply  utter 
despair.  This  pantomime  did  not  occup}"  half  a  minute  ;  and 
now,  with  noiseless  step,  I  gained  the  ladder,  and  crept 
cautiously  up  it.  My  fears  were  how  to  escape  those  who 
waited  outside ;  but  as  I  ascended  I  could  see  that  they  were 
loitering  about  in  groups,  inattentive  to  all  that  was  going 
on  below.  The  shame  at  deserting  my  comrade  so  nearly 
overcame  me,  that,  when  almost  at  the  top,  I  was  about  to 
turn  back  again.  I  even  looked  round  to  see  him  ;  but,  as  I 
did  so,  I  saw  the  ^ress  leader  draw  a  pair  of  handcuffs  from 
his  pocket,  and  throw  them  on  the  table.  The  instincts  of 
safety  were  too  strong,  and  with  a  spring  I  gained  the  street, 
and,  slipping  noiselessly  along  the  wall,  escaped  the  "  look- 
out." Without  a  thought  of  where  I  was  going  to,  or  what 
to  do,  I  ran  at  the  very  top  of  my  speed  directly  onwards, 
my  only  impulse  being  to  get  away  from  the  spot.  Could  I 
reach  the  open  country  I  thought  it  would  be  my  best  chance. 


"THE  ATHOL  TENDER."  325 

As  I  fled,  however,  no  signs  of  a  suburb  appeared ;  the 
streets,  on  the  contrary,  grew  narrower  and  more  intricate ; 
huge  warehouses,  seven  or  eight  stories  high,  loomed  at 
either  side  of  me ;  and  at  last,  on  turning  an  angle,  a  fresh 
sea-breeze  met  me,  and  showed  that  I  was  near  the  harbor. 
I  avow  that  the  sight  of  shipping,  the  tall  and  taper  spars 
that  streaked  the  sky  of  night,  the  clank  of  chain  cables  and 
the  heavy  surging  sound  of  the  looming  hulls  were  anything 
but  encouraging,  longing  as  I  did  for  the  rustling  leaves  of 
some  green  lane  ;  but  still  all  was  quiet  and  tranquil ;  a  few 
flickering  lights  twinkled  here  and  there  from  a  cabin  window, 
but  everything  seemed  sunk  in  repose. 

The  quay  was  thickly  studded  with  hogsheads  and  bales 
of  merchandise,  so  that  I  could  easily  have  found  a  safe 
resting-place  for  the  night ;  but  a  sense  of  danger  banished 
all  wish  for  sleep,  and  I  wandered  out,  restless  and  uncertain, 
framing  a  hundred  plans,  and  abandoning  them  when  formed. 

So  long  as  I  kept  company  with  Santron,  I  never  thought 
of  returning  to  Uncle  Pat;  my  reckless  spendthrift  com- 
panion had  too  often  avowed  the  pleasure  he  would  feel  in 
quartering  himself  on  my  kind  friend,  dissipating  his  hard- 
earned  gains,  and  squandering  the  fruits  of  all  his  toil. 
Deterred  by  such  a  prospect,  I  resolved  rather  never  to  re- 
visit him  than  in  such  company.  Now,  however,  I  was 
again  alone,  and  all  my  hopes  and  wishes  turned  towards 
him.  A  few  hours'  sail  might  again  bring  me  beneath  his 
roof,  and  once  more  should  I  find  my  self  at  home.  The 
thought  was  calming  to  all  my  excitement ;  I  forgot  every 
danger  I  had  passed  through;  I  lost  all  memory  of  every 
vicissitude  I  had  escaped,  and  had  only  the  little  low  parlor 
in  the  Black  Pits  before  my  mind's  eye,  the  wild,  unweeded 
garden,  and  the  sandy,  sunny  beach  before  the  door.  It  was 
as  though  all  that  nigh  a  year  had  compassed  had  never 
occurred,  and  that  my  life  at  Crown  Point  and  my  return  to 
England  were  only  a  dream.  Sleep  overcame  me  as  I  thus 
lay  pondering,  and  when  I  awoke  the  sun  was  glittering  in 
the  bright  waves  of  the  Mersey,  a  fresh  breeze  was  flaunting 
and  fluttering  the  half-loosened  sails,  and  the  joyous  sounds 
of  seamen's  voices  were  mingling  with  the  clank  of  capstans 
and  the  measured  stroke  of  oars. 


826  MAUKICE  TIERNAY. 

It  was  full  ten  minutes  after  I  awoke  before  I  could  re- 
member how  I  came  there,  and  what  had  befallen  me.  Poor 
Santron!  where  is  he  now?  was  my  first  thought,  and  it 
came  with  all  the  bitterness  of  self-reproach. 

Could  I  have  parted  company  with  him  under  other  cir- 
cumstances, it  would  not  have  grieved  me  deeply.  His 
mocking,  sarcastic  spu'it,  the  tone  of  depreciation  which  he 
used  towards  everything  and  everybody,  had  gone  far  to 
sour  me  with  the  world,  and  day  by  day  I  felt  within  me  the 
evil  influences  of  his  teachings.  How  different  were  they 
from  poor  Gottfried's  lessons,  and  the  humble  habits  of 
those  who  lived  beneath  them !  Yet  I  was  sorry,  deeply 
sorry,  that  our  separation  should  have  been  thus,  and  almost 
wished  I  had  stayed  to  share  his  fate,  whatever  it  might  be. 

While  thus  swayed  by  different  impulses,  now  thinking  of 
my  old  home  at  Crown  Point,  now  of  Uncle  Pat's  thatched 
cabin,  and  again  of  Santi'on,  I  strolled  down  to  the  wharf, 
and  found  myself  in  a  considerable  crowd  of  people,  who 
were  all  eagerly  pressing  forward  to  witness  the  embarka- 
tion of  several  boatfulls  of  pressed  seamen,  who,  strongly 
guarded  and  u'oned,  were  being  conve^^ed  to  the  "'Athol" 
tender,  a  large  three-master,  about  a  mile  off,  down  the 
river.  To  judge  from  the  cut  faces  and  bandaged  heads  and 
arms,  the  capture  had  not  been  effected  without  resistance. 
Many  of  the  poor  fellows  appeared  rather  suited  to  a  hospital 
than  the  duties  of  active  sel'^ice  ;  and  several  lay  with  blood- 
less faces  and  white  lips,  the  handcuffed  wrists  seeming  a 
very  mockery  of  a  condition  so  destitute  of  all  chance  of 
resistance. 

The  sympathies  of  the  bystanders  were  very  varied  re- 
garding them.  Some  were  full  of  tender  pity  and  compas- 
sion ;  some  denounced  the  system  as  a  cruel  and  oppressive 
tyranny  ;  others  deplored  it  as  an  unhappy  necessity  ;  and  a 
few  well-to-do-looking  old  citizens,  in  drab  shorts  and  wide- 
brimmed  hats,  grew  mai-vellously  indignant  at  the  recreant 
poltroonery  of  the  "  scoundrels  who  were  not  proud  to  fight 
then-  country's  battles." 

As  I  was  wondering  within  myself  how  it  happened  that 
men  thus  coerced  could  ever  be  depended  on  in  moments  of 
peril  and  difficulty,  and  by  what  magic  the  mere  exercise  of 


"THE   ATHOL   TENDER."  327 

discipline  was  able  to  merge  the  feelings  of  the  man  in  the 
sailor,  the  crowd  was  rudely  driven  back  by  policemen,  and 
a  cry  of  "make  wa}^,"  "fall  back  there,"  given.  In  the 
sudden  retiring  of  the  mass  I  found  myself  standing  on  the 
very  edge  of  the  line  along  which  a  new  body  of  impressed 
men  were  about  to  pass.  Guarded  front,  flank,  and  rear,  by 
a  strong  party  of  marines,  the  poor  fellows  came  along 
slowly  enough.  Many  were  badly  wounded,  and  walked 
lamely ;  some  were  bleeding  profusely  from  cuts  on  the  face 
and  temples,  and  one,  at  the  very  tail  of  the  procession,  was 
actually  carried  in  a  blanket  by  four  sailors.  A  low  murmur 
ran  through  the  crowd  at  the  spectacle,  which  gradually 
swelled  louder  and  fuller  till  it  burst  forth  into  a  deep  groan 
of  indignation,  and  a  cry  of  "  Shame  !  shame  !  "  Too  much 
used  to  such  ebullitions  of  public  feeling,  or  too  proud  to 
care  for  them,  the  officer  in  command  of  the  party  never 
seemed  to  hear  the  angry  cries  and  shouts  around  him ;  and 
I  was  even  more  struck  by  his  cool  self-possession  than  by 
their  enthusiasm.  For  a  moment  or  two  I  was  convinced 
that  a  rescue  would  be  attempted.  I  had  no  conception  that 
so  much  excitement  could  evaporate  innocuously,  and  was 
preparing  myself  to  take  part  in  the  struggle,  when  the  line 
halted  as  the  leading  files  gained  the  stairs,  and  to  my  won- 
derment, the  crowd  became  hushed  and  still.  Then,  one 
burst  of  excited  pity  over,  not  a  thought  occurred  to  any  to 
offer  resistance  to  the  law,  or  dare  to  oppose  the  constituted 
authorities.  "  How  unlike  Frenchmen  !  "  thought  I ;  nor  am 
I  certain  whether  I  deemed  the  disparity  to  their  credit ! 

"  Give  him  a  glass  of  water !  "  I  heard  the  officer  say,  as 
he  leaned  over  the  litter,  and  the  crowd  at  once  opened  to 
permit  some  one  to  fetch  it.  Before  I  believed  it  were  pos- 
sible to  have  procured  it,  a  tumbler  of  water  was  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  till  it  reached  mine,  and,  stepping  forwards,  I 
bent  down  to  give  it  to  the  sick  man.  The  end  of  a  coarse 
sheet  was  thrown  over  his  face,  and  as  it  was  removed  I 
almost  fell  over  him,  for  it  was  Santron.  His  face  was 
covered  with  a  cold  sweat,  which  lay  in  great  drops  all  over 
it,  and  his  lips  were  slightly  frothed.  As  he  looked  up  I 
could  see  that  he  was  just  rallying  from  a  fainting  fit,  and 
could  mark  in  the  change  that  came  over  his  glassy  eye  that 


328  MAURICE  TIERXAY. 

he  had  recoguized  me.  He  made  a  famt  effort  at  a  smile, 
and,  in  a  voice  barely  a  whisper,  said,  '*  I  knew  thou 'd  not 
leave  me,  Maurice." 

"You  are  his  countrj^man  ?  "  said  the  officer,  addressing 
me  in  French. 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  my  reply. 

"You  are  both  Canadians,  then?" 

"Frenchmen,  sir,  and  officers  in  the  service.  We  only 
landed  from  an  American  ship  yesterday,  and  were  trying  to 
make  our  way  to  France." 

"  I  'm  sorry  for  you,"  said  he,  compassionately ;  "  nor  do 
I  know  how  to  help  you.  Come  on  board  the  tender,  hov>^- 
ever,  and  we  '11  see  if  they  '11  not  give  you  a  passage  with 
your  friend  to  the  Nore.  I'll  speak  to  my  commanding- 
officer  for  3'ou." 

This  scene  all  passed  in  a  very  few  minutes,  and  before  I 
well  knew  how  or  why,  I  found  myself  on  board  of  a  ship's 
long-boat,  sweeping  along  over  the  Merse}^  with  Santron's 
head  in  m}^  lap,  and  his  cold,  clammy  fingers  grasped  in 
mine.  He  was  either  unaware  of  my  presence  or  too  weak 
to  recognize  me ;  for  he  gave  no  sign  of  knowing  me,  and 
during  our  brief  passage  down  the  river,  and  when  lifted  up 
the  ship's  side,  seemed  totally  insensible  to  everything. 

The  scene  of  uproar,  noise,  and  confusion  on  board  the 
"  Athol "  is  far  above  my  ability  to  convey.  A  shipwreck,  a 
fire,  and  mutin^^,  all  combined,  could  scarcely  have  collected 
greater  elements  of  discord.  Two  large  detachments  of 
marines,  man}'  of  whom,  fresh  from  furlough,  were  too  drunk 
for  duty,  and  were  either  lying  asleep  along  the  deck  or 
riotously  interfering  with  everybody  ;  a  company  of  Sappers 
671  route  to  Woolwich,  who  would  obey  none  but  their  own 
oflScer,  and  he  was  still  ashore ;  detachments  of  able-bodied 
seamen  from  the  "  Jupiter,"  full  of  grog  and  prize-money; 
four  hundred  and  seventy  impressed  men,  cursing,  blasphem- 
ing, and  imprecating  ever}'  species  of  calamity  on  then' 
captors  ;  added  to  which,  a  crowd  of  Jews,  bumboat  women, 
and  slop-sellers  of  all  kinds,  with  the  crews  of  two  ballast- 
lighters,  fighting  for  additional  pay,  —  all  being  the  chief 
actors  in  a  scene  whose  discord  I  never  saw  equalled. 
Drunkenness,  suffering,  hopeless   misery,  and   even   insub- 


"THE   ATHOL   TENDER."  329 

ordination  lent  their  voices  to  a  tumult  amid  which  the  words 
of  command  seemed  lost,  and  all  effort  at  discipline  vain. 

How  we  were  ever  to  go  to  sea  in  this  state  I  could  not 
even  imagine ;  the  ship's  crew  seemed  inextricably  mingled 
with  the  rioters,  many  of  whom  were  just  sufficiently  sober 
to  be  eternally  meddling  with  the  ship's  tackle, — belaying 
what  ought  to  be  "free,"  and  loosening  what  should  have 
been  "fast;"  getting  their  fingers  jammed  in  blocks,  and 
their  limbs  crushed  by  spars,  till  the  cries  of  agony  rose  high 
above  every  other  confusion.  Turning  with  disgust  from  a 
spectacle  so  discordant  and  disgraceful,  I  descended  the 
ladders  which  led  by  many  a  successive  flight  into  the  dark, 
low-ceilinged  chamber  called  the  "  sick  bay,"  and  where  poor 
Santron  was  lying  in  (what  I  almost  envied)  insensibility  to 
the  scene  around  him.  A  severe  blow  from  the  hilt  of  a 
cutlass  had  caused  a  concussion  of  the  brain,  and,  save  in 
the  momentary  excitement  which  a  sudden  question  might 
cause,  left  him  totally  unconscious.  His  head  had  been 
already  shaved  before  I  descended  ;  and  I  found  the  assistant- 
surgeon,  an  Irishman,  Mr.  Peter  Colhayne,  experimenting  a 
new  mode  of  cupping  as  I  entered.  By  some  mischance  of 
the  machinery,  the  lancets  of  the  cupping  instrument  had 
remained  permanently  fixed,  refusing  to  obey  the  spring,  and 
standing  all  straight  outside  the  surface.  In  this  dilemma, 
Peter's  ingenuity  saw  nothing  for  it  but  to  press  them  down 
vigorously  into  the  scalp,  and  then  saw  them  backwards  the 
whole  length  of  the  head,  —  a  performance  the  originality  of 
which,  in  all  probability,  was  derived  from  the  operation  of 
a  harrow  in  agriculture.  He  had  just  completed  a  third 
track  when  I  came  in,  and,  by  great  remonstrance  and  no 
small  flattery,  induced  him  to  desist.  "We  have  glasses," 
said  he,  "but  they  were  all  broke  in  the  cockpit;  but  a  tin 
porringer  is  just  as  good."  And  so  saying,  he  lighted  a 
little  pledget  of  tow,  previously  steeped  in  turpentine,  and, 
popping  it  into  the  tin  vessel,  clapped  it  on  the  head.  This 
was  meant  to  exhaust  the  air  within,  and  thus  draw  the 
blood  to  the  surface,  —  a  scientific  process  he  was  good 
enough  to  explain  most  minutely  for  my  benefit,  and  the 
good  results  of  which  he  most  confidently  vouched  for. 

"They've    a    hundred   new    conthrivances,"    said    Mr. 


330  MAURICE   TIEENAY. 

Colhayne,  "  for  doing  that  simple  thing  ye  see  there.  They  've 
pumps  and  screws  and  hydraulic  devilments  as  much  com- 
plicated as  a  watch  that 's  always  getting  out  of  order  and 
going  wrong ;  but  with  that  ye  '11  see  what  good  't  will  do 
him;  he'll  be  as  lively  as  a  lark  in  ten  minutes." 

The  prophecy  was  destined  to  a  perfect  fulfilment ;  for  poor 
Santron,  who  lay  motionless  and  unconscious  up  to  that 
moment,  suddenly  gave  signs  of  life  by  moving  his  features, 
and  jerking  his  limbs  to  this  side  and  that.  The  doctor's 
self-satisfaction  took  the  very  proudest  form.  He  expatiated 
on  the  grandeur  of  medical  science,  the  wonderful  advance- 
ment it  was  making,  and  the  astonishing  progress  the  cura- 
tive art  had  made  even  within  his  own  time.  I  must  own 
that  I  should  have  lent  a  more  implicit  credence  to  this  paean 
if  I  had  not  waited  for  the  removal  of  the  cupping-vessel, 
which,  instead  of  blood,  contained  merely  the  charred  ashes 
of  the  burnt  tow,  while  the  scalp  beneath  it  presented  a 
l5lackened,  seared  aspect  like  burned  leather.  Such  was 
literally  the  effect  of  the  operation ;  but  as  from  that  period 
the  patient  began  steadily  to  improve,  I  must  leave  to  more 
scientific  inquirers  the  task  of  explaining  through  what 
agency  and  on  what  principles. 

Santron's  condition,  although  no  longer  dangerous,  pre- 
sented little  hope  of  speedy  recovery.  His  faculties  were 
clouded  and  obscured,  and  the  mere  effort  at  recognition 
seemed  to  occasion  him  great  subsequent  disturbance. 
Colhayne,  who,  w^hatever  may  have  been  his  scientific  defi- 
ciencies, was  good-nature  and  kindness  itself,  saw  nothing 
for  him  but  removal  to  Haslar ;  and  we  now  only  waited  for 
the  ship's  arrival  at  the  Nore  to  obtain  the  order  for  his 
transmission. 

If  the  ''  Athol"  was  a  scene  of  the  wildest  confusion  and 
uproar  when  we  tripped  our  anchor,  we  had  not  been  six 
hours  at  sea  when  all  was  a  picture  of  order  and  propriety. 
The  decks  were  cleared  of  every  one  not  actually  engaged 
in  the  ship's  working  or  specially  permitted  to  remain ;  ropes 
were  coiled,  boats  hauled  up,  sails  trimmed,  hatches 
down,  sentinels  paced  the  deck  in  appointed  places,  and  all 
was  discipline  and  regularity.  From  the  decorous  silence 
that  prevailed,  none  could  have  supposed  so  many  hundred 


I 


"THE   ATHOL  TENDER."  331 

living  beings  were  aboard,  still  less  that  they  were  the  same 
disorderly  mob  who  sailed  from  the  Mersey  a  few  short  hours 
before.  From  the  surprise  which  all  this  caused  me  I  was 
speedily  aroused  by  an  order  more  immediately  interesting, 
being  summoned  on  the  poop-deck  to  attend  the  general 
muster.  Up  they  came  from  holes  and  hatchways,  a  vast 
host,  no  longer  brawling  and  insubordinate,  but  quiet,  sub- 
missive, and  civil.  Such  as  were  wounded  had  been  placed 
under  the  doctor's  care,  and  all  those  now  present  were 
orderly  and  service-like.  With  a  very  few  exceptions  they 
were  all  sailors,  a  few  having  already  served  in  a  king's 
ship.  The  first  lieutenant,  who  inspected  us,  was  a  grim, 
gray-headed  man  past  the  prime  of  life,  with  features 
hardened  by  disappointment  and  long  service,  but  who  still 
retained  an  expression  of  kindliness  and  good-nature.  His 
duty  he  despatched  with  all  the  speed  of  long  habit ;  read 
the  name,  looked  at  the  bearer  of  it,  asked  a  few  routine 
questions,  and  then  cried  "  Stand  by,"  even  ere  the  answers 
were  finished.     When  he  came  to  me  he  said,  — 

"  Abraham  Hackett.     Is  that  your  name,  lad?  " 

"  No,  sir.     I  'm  called  Maurice  Tiernay." 

"  Tiernay,  Tiernay,"  said  he  a  couple  of  times  over.  "  No 
such  name  here.  Where 's  Tiernay's  name,  Cottle  ?  "  asked  he 
of  a  subordinate  behind  him. 

The  fellow  looked  down  the  list,  then  at  me,  then  at  the 
list  again,  and  then  back  to  me,  puzzled  excessively  by  the 
difficulty,  but  not  seeing  how  to  explain  it. 

"  Perhaps  I  can  set  the  matter  right,  sir,"  said  I.  "I 
came  aboard  along  with  a  wounded  countryman  of  mine,  — 
the  young  Frenchman  who  is  now  in  the  sick  bay." 

"  Ay,  to  be  sure ;  I  remember  all  about  it  now,"  said  the 
lieutenant.     "  You  call  yourselves  French  officers?" 

"  And  such  are  we,  sir." 

"Then  how  the  devil  came  ye  here?  Mother  Martin's 
cellar  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  an  unlikely  spot  to  select  as  a 
restaurant." 

"  The  story  is  a  somewhat  long  one,  sir." 

"  Then  I  have  n't  time  for  it,  lad,"  he  broke  in.  "  We  've 
rather  too  much  on  hand  just  now  for  that.  If  you  've  got 
your  papers,  or  anything  to  prove  what  you  assert,  I  '11  land 


332  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

you  when  I  come  into  the  Downs,  and  you  '11  of  course  be 
treated  as  your  rank  in  the  service  requires.  If  you  have 
not,  I  must  only  take  the  responsibility  on  myself  to  regard 
you  as  an  impressed  man.  Very  hard,  I  know,  but  can't  help 
it.     Stand  by." 

These  few  words  were  uttered  with  a  most  impetuous 
speed  ;  and  as  all  reply  to  them  was  impossible,  I  saw  my  case 
decided  and  my  fate  decreed,  even  before  I  knew  they  were 
under  litigation. 

As  we  were  marched  forwards  to  go  below,  I  overheard  an 
officer  say  to  another,  — 

"  Ha}^  will  get  into  a  scrape  about  those  French  fellows ; 
they  may  turn  out  to  be  officers,  after  all." 

'' What  matter?  "  cried  the  other.  "  One  is  dying;  and 
the  other  Hay  means  to  draft  on  board  the  '  Temeraire.' 
Depend  upon  it,  we'll  never  hear  more  of  either  of  them." 

This  was  far  from  pleasant  tidings ;  and  yet  I  knew  not 
any  remedy  for  the  mishap.  I  had  never  seen  the  officer  who 
spoke  to  me  ashore  since  we  came  on  board.  I  knew  of  none 
to  intercede  for  me ;  and  as  I  sat  down  on  the  bench  beside 
poor  Santron's  cot,  I  felt  my  heart  lower  than  it  had  ever 
been  before.  I  was  never  enamoured  of  the  sea  service,  and 
certainly  the  way  to  overcome  my  dislike  was  not  by  engag- 
ing against  my  own  country ;  and  j^et  this,  in  all  likelihood, 
was  now  to  be  my  fate.  These  were  my  last  waking  thoughts 
the  first  night  I  passed  on  board  the  "  Athol." 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

A   BOLD    STROKE    FOR    FAME    AND    FORTUNE. 

To  be  awakened  suddenly  from  a  sound  sleep,  hurried  half- 
dressed  up  a  gangway,  and  ere  your  faculties  have  acquired 
free  play  be  passed  over  a  ship's  side  on  a  dark  and  stormy 
night  into  a  boat  wildly  tossed  here  and  there,  with  spray 
showering  over  you  and  a  chorus  of  loud  voices  about  you, 
is  an  event  not  easily  forgotten.  Such  a  scene  still  dwells  in 
my  memory,  every  incident  of  it  as  clear  and  distinct  as  though 
it  had  occurred  only  yesterday.  In  this  way  was  I  passed, 
with  twelve  others,  on  board  his  Majesty's  frigate  "  Teme- 
raire,"  a  vessel  which  in  the  sea  service  represented  what  a 
well-known  regiment  did  on  shore,  and  bore  the  reputation  of 
being  a  "  condemned  ship,  "  — this  depreciating  epithet  hav- 
ing no  relation  to  the  qualities  of  the  vessel  herself,  which 
was  a  singularly  beautiful  French  model,  but  only  to  that  of 
the  crew  and  officers ;  it  being  the  policy  of  the  day  to  iso- 
late the  blackguards  of  both  sei*vices,  confining  them  to 
particular  crafts  and  corps,  making,  as  it  were,  a  kind  of 
''  index  expurgatorius,"  where  all  the  rascality  was  avail- 
able at  a  moment's  notice. 

It  would  be  neither  agreeable  to  my  reader  nor  myself  if 
I  should  dwell  on  this  theme,  nor  linger  on  a  description 
where  cruelty,  crime,  heartless  tyranny,  and  reckless  insub- 
ordination made  up  all  the  elements.  A  vessel  that  floated 
the  seas  only  as  a  vast  penitentiary  —  the  "  cats,"  the  "  yard- 
arm,"  and  the  "gangway,"  comprising  its  scheme  of  dis- 
cipline—  would  scarcely  be  an  agreeable  subject;  and  in 
reality  my  memory  retains  of  the  life  aboard  little  else  than 
scenes  of  suffering  and  sorrow.  Captain  Gesbrook  had  the 
name  of  being  able  to  reduce  any,  the  most  insubordinate,  to 
discipline.     The  veriest  rascals  of  the  fleet,  the  consummate 


334  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

scoundrels,  one  of  whom  was  deemed  pollution  to  an  ordinary 
crew,  were  said  to  come  from  his  hands  models  of  seamanship 
and  good  conduct ;  and  it  must  be  owned  that  if  the  char- 
acter was  deserved,  it  was  not  obtained  without  some  sacri- 
fice. Many  died  under  punishment ;  many  carried  away  with 
them  diseases  under  which  they  lingered  on  to  death ;  and  not 
a  few  preferred  suicide  to  the  terrible  existence  on  board. 
And  although  a  "  Temeraire  "  —  as  a  man  who  had  served  in 
her  was  always  afterwards  called  —  was  now  and  then  shown 
as  an  example  of  sailor-like  smartness  and  activity,  very 
few  knew  how  dearly  that  one  success  had  been  purchased, 
nor  by  what  terrible  examples  of  agony  and  woe  that  solitary 
conversion  was  obtained. 

To  me  the  short  time  I  spent  on  board  of  her  is  a  dreadful 
dream.  We  were  bound  for  the  Mediterranean,  to  touch  at 
Malta  and  Gibraltar,  and  then  join  the  blockading  squadron 
before  Genoa.  What  might  have  been  my  fate,  to  what 
excess  passionate  indignation  might  have  carried  me,  revolted 
as  I  was  by  tyranny  and  injustice,  I  know  not,  when  an 
accident,  happily  for  me,  rescued  me  from  all  temptation. 
We  lost  our  mizzenmast  in  a  storm  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay, 
and  a  dreadful  blow  on  the  head  from  the  sj^anker-boom 
felled  me  to  the  deck,  with  a  fracture  of  the  skull. 

From  that  moment  I  know  of  nothing  till  the  time  when  I 
lay  in  my  cot,  beside  a  port-hole  of  the  main-deck,  gazing  at 
the  bright  blue  waters  that  flashed  and  rippled  beside  me,  or 
straining  my  strength  to  rest  on  my  elbow,  when  I  caught 
sight  of  the  glorious  city  of  Genoa,  with  its  grand  mountain 
background,  about  three  miles  from  where  I  lay.  Whether 
from  a  due  deference  to  the  imposing  strength  of  the  vast 
fortress,  or  that  the  line  of  duty  prescribed  our  action,  I 
cannot  say,  but  the  British  squadron  almost  exclusively  con- 
fined its  operations  to  the  act  of  blockade.  Extending  far 
across  the  bay,  the  English  ensign  was  seen  floating  from 
many  a  taper  mast ;  while  boats  of  every  shape  and  size  plied 
incessantly  from  ship  to  ship,  their  course  marked  out  at 
night  by  the  meteor-like  light  that  glittered  in  them,  —  not, 
indeed,  that  the  eye  often  turned  in  that  direction,  all  the 
absorbing  interest  of  the  scene  lying  in-shore.  Genoa  was 
at  that  time  surrounded  by  an  immense  Austrian  force,  under 


A  BOLD   STROKE   FOR  FAME  A^T>  FORTUNE.       335 

the  commaud  of  General  Melas,  'vvhich,  occupying  all  the 
valleys  and  deep  passes  of  the  Apennines,  were  impercep- 
tible during  the  day  ;  but  no  sooner  had  night  closed  in,  than 
a  tremendous  cannonade  began,  the  balls  describing  great 
semicu'cles  in  the  an-  ere  they  fell  to  scatter  death  and  ruin  on 
the  devoted  city.  The  spectacle  was  grand  beyond  descrip- 
tion, for  while  the  distance  at  which  we  lay  dulled  and  sub- 
dued the  sound  of  the  artillery  to  a  hollow  booming,  like 
far-off  thunder,  the  whole  sky  was  streaked  by  the  course  of 
the  shot,  and  at  intervals  lighted  up  by  the  splendor  of  a 
great  fire  as  the  red  shot  fell  into  and  ignited  some  large 
building  or  other. 

As  night  after  night  the  cannonade  increased  in  power 
and  intensity,  and  the  terrible  effects  showed  themselves  in 
flames  which  burst  out  from  different  quarters  of  the  city,  I 
used  to  long  for  morning  to  see  if  the  tricolor  still  floated  on 
the  walls ;  and  when  my  eye  caught  the  well-known  ensign, 
I  could  have  wept  with  joy  as  I  beheld  it. 

High  up,  too,  on  the  cliffs  of  the  rugged  Apennines,  from 
many  a  craggy  eminence,  where  perhaps  a  solitary  gun  was 
stationed,  I  could  see  the  glorious  flag  of  France,  the  emblem 
of  liberty  and  glorj^  too. 

In  the  day  the  scene  was  one  of  calm  and  tranquil  beaut}" ; 
it  would  have  seemed  impossible  to  connect  it  with  war  and 
battle.  The  glorious  city,  rising  in  terraces  of  palaces,  lay 
reflected  in  the  mirror-like  waters  of  the  bay,  blue  as  the  deep 
sky  above  them.  The  orange-trees,  loaded  with  golden  fruit, 
shed  their  perfume  over  marble  fountains,  amid  gardens  of 
every  varied  hue  ;  bands  of  military  music  were  heard  from 
the  public  promenades,  —  all  the  signs  of  joy  and  festivity 
which  betokened  a  happy  and  pleasure-seeking  population. 
But  at  night  the  "  red  artillery"  again  flashed  forth,  and  the 
wild  cries  of  strife  and  battle  rose  through  the  beleaguered 
city.  The  English  spies  reported  that  a  famine  and  a  dread- 
ful fever  were  raging  within  the  walls,  and  that  all  Massena's 
efforts  were  needed  to  repress  an  open  mutiny  of  the  garri- 
son; but  the  mere  aspect  of  the  proud  city  seemed  to 
refute  the  assertion.  The  gay  carolling  of  church  bells  vied 
with  the  lively  strains  of  martial  music,  and  the  imposing 
pomp  of  military  array,  which  could  be  seen  from  the  walls, 


336  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

bespoke  a  joyous  confidence,  the  very  reverse  of  this 
depression. 

From  the  "tops,"  and  high  up  in  the  rigging,  the  move- 
ments in-shore  could  be  descried ;  and  frequently,  when  an 
officer  came  down  to  visit  a  comrade,  I  could  hear  of  the  pro- 
gress of  the  siege,  and  learn,  I  need  not  say  with  what 
delight,  that  the  Austrians  had  made  little  or  no  way  in  the 
reduction  of  the  place,  and  that  every  stronghold  and  bas- 
tion was  still  held  by  Frenchmen. 

At  first,  as  I  listened,  the  names  of  new  places  and  new 
generals  confused  me  ;  but  by  daily  familiarity  with  the  topic, 
I  began  to  perceive  that  the  Austrians  had  interposed  a  por- 
tion of  their  force  between  Massena's  division  and  that  of 
Suchet,  cutting  off  the  latter  from  Genoa,  and  compelling  him 
to  fall  back  towards  Chiavari  and  Borghetto,  along  the  coast 
to  the  Gulf.  This  was  the  first  success  of  any  importance 
obtained ;  and  it  was  soon  followed  by  others  of  equal  signi- 
ficance, Soult  being  driven  from  ridge  to  ridge  of  the  Apen- 
nines, till  he  was  forced  back  within  the  second  line  of 
defences. 

The  English  oflficers  were  loud  in  condemning  Austrian 
slowness,  the  inaptitude  they  exhibited  to  profit  by  a  success, 
and  the  over-caution  which  made  them,  even  in  victory,  so 
careful  of  their  own  safety.  From  what  I  overheard,  it 
seemed  plain  that  Genoa  was  untenable  by  any  troops  but 
French,  or  opposed  to  any  other  adversaries  than  their  pre- 
sent ones. 

The  bad  tidings  —  such  I  deemed  them  —  came  quicker  and 
heavier.  Now,  Soult  was  driven  from  Monte  Notte.  Now, 
the  great  advance  post  of  Monte  Faccio  was  stormed  and 
carried.  Now,  the  double  eagle  was  floating  from  San  Tecla, 
a  fort  within  cannon-shot  of  Genoa.  A  vast  semicircle  of 
bivouac  fires  stretched  from  the  Apennines  to  the  sea,  and 
theu'  reflected  glare  from  the  sky  lit  up  the  battlements  and 
ramparts  of  the  city. 

"  Even  yet,  if  Massena  would  make  a  dash  at  them,"  said  a 
young  English  lieutenant,    "  the  white-coats  would  fall  back." 

"  My  life  on  't  he  'd  cut  his  way  through,  if  he  knew  they 
were  only  two  to  one  !  " 

And  this  sentiment  met  no  dissentient.     All  a2;reed  that 


A  BOLD  STROKE  FOR  FAME  AND  FORTUNE.    337 

French  heroism  was  still  equal  to  the  overthrow  of  a  force 
double  its  own. 

It  was  evident  that  all  hope  of  reinforcement  from  France 
was  vain.  Before  they  could  have  begun  their  march  south- 
ward, the  question  must  be  decided  one  way  or  other. 

"There's  little  doing  to-night,"  said  an  officer,  as  he  de- 
scended the  ladder  to  the  sick  bay.  "  Melas  is  waiting  for 
some  heavy  mortars  that  are  coming  up ;  and  then  there  will 
be  a  long  code  of  instructions  from  the  Aulic  Council,  and  a 
whole  treatise  on  gunnery  to  be  read,  before  he  can  use  them. 
Trust  me,  if  Massena  knew  his  man,  he  'd  be  up  and  at  him." 

Much  discussion  followed  this  speech,  but  all  more  or  less 
agreed  in  its  sentiment.  Weak  as  were  the  French,  lowered 
by  fever  and  by  famine,  they  were  still  an  overmatch  for 
their  adversaries.  What  a  glorious  avowal  from  the  lips  of 
an  enemy  was  this !  The  words  did  more  for  my  recovery 
than  all  the  care  and  skill  of  physic.  Oh  if  my  countrymen 
but  knew !  if  Massena  could  but  hear  it !  was  my  next 
thought ;  and  I  turned  my  eyes  to  the  ramparts,  whose  line 
was  marked  out  by  the  bivouac  fires  through  the  darkness. 
How  short  the  distance  seemed !  and  yet  it  was  a  whole 
world  of  separation.  Had  it  been  a  great  plain  in  a  moun- 
tain tract,  the  attempt  might  almost  have  appeared  practi- 
cable ;  at  least,  I  had  often  seen  fellows  who  would  have  tried 
it.  Such  were  the  ready  roads,  the  royal  paths  to  promotion  ; 
and  he  who  trod  them  saved  miles  of  weary  journey.  I  fell 
asleep,  still  thinking  on  these  things ;  but  they  haunted  my 
dreams.  A  voice  seemed  ever  to  whisper  in  my  ear,  "  If 
Massena  but  knew,  he  would  attack  them  !  One  bold  dash, 
and  the  Austrians  would  fall  back."  At  one  instant,  I  thought 
myself  brought  before  a  court-martial  of  English  officers  for 
attempting  to  carry  these  tidings ;  and  proudly  avowing  the 
endeavor,  I  fancied  I  was  braving  the  accusation.  At 
another,  I  was  wandering  through  the  streets  of  Genoa, 
gazing  on  the  terrible  scenes  of  famine  I  had  heard  of.  And, 
lastly,  I  was  marching  with  a  night  party  to  attack  the 
enemy ;  the  stealthy  footfall  of  the  column  appeared  sud- 
denly to  cease, — we  were  discovered,  the  Austrian  cavalry 
were  upon  us !  I  started  and  awoke,  and  found  m3^self  in 
the   dim,    half -lighted    chamber,    with    pain    and    suffering 

22 


338  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

around  me,  and  where,  even  in  this  midnight  hour,  the  rest- 
less tortures  of  disease  were  yet  wakeful. 

"The  silence  is  more  oppressive  to  me  than  the  roll  of 
artillery,"  said  one,  a  sick  midshipman,  to  his  comrade.  ''  I 
grew  accustomed  to  the  clatter  of  the  guns,  and  slept  all  the 
better  for  it." 

"You'll  scarcely  hear  much  more  of  that  music,"  replied 
his  friend.  "  The  French  must  capitulate  to-morrow  or  next 
day." 

"  Not  if  Massena  would  make  a  dash  at  them,"  thought  I ; 
and  with  difficulty  could  I  refrain  from  uttering  the  words 
aloud. 

They  continued  to  talk  to  each  other  in  low  whispers,  and 
lulled  by  the  drowsy  tones  I  fell  asleep  once  more,  again  to 
dream  of  my  comrades  and  their  fortunes.  A  heavy  bang 
like  a  cannon-shot  awoke  me ;  but  whether  this  were  real  or 
not  I  never  knew,  —  most  probably,  however,  it  was  the  mere 
creation  of  my  brain,  for  all  were  now  in  deep  slumber 
around  me,  and  even  the  marine  on  duty  had  seated  himself 
on  the  ladder,  and  with  his  musket  between  his  legs  seemed 
dozing  away  peacefully.  I  looked  out  through  the  little 
window  beside  my  berth.  A  light  breeze  was  faintly  rip- 
pling the  dark  water  beneath  me.  It  was  the  beginning  of 
a  Levanter,  and  scarcely  ruffled  the  surface  as  it  swept 
along. 

"Oh  if  it  would  but  bear  the  tidings  I  am  full  of!" 
thought  I.     "  But  why  not  dare  the  attempt  myself?  " 

While  in  America  I  had  learned  to  become  a  good  swim- 
mer. Under  Indian  teaching,  I  had  often  passed  hours  in 
the  water ;  and  though  now  debilitated  by  long  sickness,  I 
felt  that  the  cause  would  supply  me  with  the  strength  I 
needed.  From  the  instant  that  I  conceived  the  thought  till 
I  found  myself  descending  the  ship's  side,  was  scarcely  a 
minute.  Stripping  off  my  woollen  shirt,  and  with  nothing 
but  my  loose  trousers,  I  crept  through  the  little  window,  and 
lowerirg  myself  gently  by  the  rattlin  of  my  hammock, 
descended  slowly  and  noiselessly  into  the  sea.  I  hung  on 
thus  for  a  couple  of  seconds,  half  fearing  the  attempt,  and 
irresolute  of  purpose.  Should  strength  fail,  or  even  a  cramp 
seize  me,  I  must  be  lost,  and  none  would  ever  know  in  what 
an  enterprise  I  had  perished ;   it  would   be   set  down  as  a 


A  BOLD  STROKE  FOR  FAME  AND  FORTUNE.    339 

mere  attempt  at  escape.  This  notion  almost  staggered  my 
resolution,  but  only  for  a  second  or  so ;  and,  with  a  short 
prayer,  I  slowly  let  slip  the  rope,  and  struck  out  to  swim. 

The  immense  efforts  requked  to  get  clear  of  the  ship's  side 
discouraged  me  dreadfully,  nor  probably  without  the  aid  of 
the  Levanter  should  I  have  succeeded  in  doing  so,  the 
suction  of  the  water  along  the  sides  was  so  powerful.  At 
last,  however,  I  gained  the  open  space,  and  found  myself 
stretching  away  towards  shore  rapidly.  The  night  was  so 
dark  that  I  had  nothing  to  guide  me  save  the  lights  on  the 
ramparts ;  but  in  this  lay  my  safety.  Swimming  is,  after 
all,  but  a  slow  means  of  progression.  After  what  I  judged 
to  be  an  hour  in  the  water,  as  I  turned  my  head  to  look  back, 
I  almost  fancied  that  the  great  bowsprit  of  the  "  Temeraire" 
was  over  me,  and  that  the  figure  who  leaned  over  the  taffrail 
was  steadily  gazing  on  me.  How  little  way  had  I  made,  and 
what  a  vast  reach  of  water  lay  between  me  and  the  shore ! 
I  tried  to  animate  my  courage  by  thinking  of  the  cause,  how 
my  comrades  would  greet  me,  the  honor  in  which  they  would 
hold  me  for  the  exploit,  and  such  like ;  but  the  terror  of 
failure  damped  this  ardor,  and  hope  sank  every  moment 
lower  and  lower. 

For  some  time  I  resolved  within  myself  not  to  look  back, 
the  discouragement  was  too  great ;  but  the  impulse  to  do  so 
became  all  the  greater,  and  the  only  means  of  resisting  was 
by  counting  the  strokes,  and  determining  not  to  turn  my 
head  before  I  had  made  a  thousand.  The  monotony  of  this 
last,  and  the  ceaseless  effort  to  advance,  threw  me  into  a  kind 
of  dreamy  state,  wherein  mere  mechanical  effort  remained. 
A  few  vague  impressions  are  all  that  remain  to  me  of  what 
followed.  I  remember  the  sound  of  the  morning  guns  from 
the  fleet ;  I  remember,  too,  the  hoisting  of  the  French  stan- 
dard at  daybreak  on  the  fort  of  the  mole ;  I  have  some  recol- 
lection of  a  bastion  crowded  with  people,  and  hearing  shouts 
and  cheers  like  voices  of  welcome  and  encouragement ;  and 
then  a  whole  fleet  of  small  boats  issuing  from  the  harbor, 
as  if  by  one  imf)ulse ;  and  then  there  comes  a  bright  blaze  of 
light  over  one  incident,  for  I  saw  myself,  dripping  and  almost 
dead,  lifted  on  the  shoulders  of  strong  men,  and  carried 
along  a  wide  street  filled  with  people.     I  was  in  Genoa. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

"GENOA    IN    THE    SIEGE." 

Up  a  straight  street,  so  steep  and  so  narrow  that  it  seemed  a 
stair,  with  hundreds  of  men  crowding  around  me,  I  was 
borne  along.  Now  they  were  sailors  who  carried  me  ;  now, 
white-bearded  grenadiers,  with  then-  bronzed,  bold  faces; 
now  they  were  the  wild-looking  Faquini  of  the  Mole,  with 
long-tasselled  red  caps,  and  gaudy  sashes  around  their  waists. 
Windows  were  opened  on  either  side  as  we  went,  and  eager 
faces  protruded  to  stare  at  me ;  and  then  there  were  shouts 
and  cries  of  triumphant  joy  bursting  forth  at  every  moment, 
amidst  which  I  could  hear  the  ever-recurring  words,  "  Escaped 
from  the  English  fleet." 

By  what  means  or  when  I  had  exchanged  my  dripping 
trousers  of  coarse  sail-cloth  for  the  striped  gear  of  our  re- 
publican mode,  —  how  one  had  given  me  his  jacket,  another 
a  cap,  and  a  third  a  shirt,  — I  knew  not;  but  there  I  was, 
carried  along  in  triumph,  half  fainting  from  exhaustion,  and 
almost  maddened  by  excitement.  That  I  must  have  told 
something  of  my  history  —  Heaven  knows  how  incoherently 
and  unconnectedly  —  is  plain  enough,  for  I  could  hear  them 
repeating  one  to  the  other,  ' '  Had  sei'\' ed  with  Moreau's 
corps  in  the  Black  Forest;"  "A  hussar  of  the  Ninth;" 
"  One  of  Humbert's  fellows ;  "  and  so  on. 

As  we  turned  into  a  species  of  Place,  a  discussion  arose 
as  to  whither  they  should  convey  me.  Some  were  for  the 
Cavalry  Barracks,  that  I  might  be  once  more  with  those 
who  resembled  my  old  comrades.  Others,  more  considerate, 
were  for  the  hospital ;  but  a  staff-officer  decided  the  question 
by  stating  that  the  general  was  at  that  very  moment  receiv- 
ing the  report  in  the  church  of  the  Annunziata,  and  that  he 
ought  to  see  me  at  once. 


"GENOA  IN  THE   SIEGE."  341 

"Let  the  poor  fellow  have  some  refreshment,"  cried  one. 
"Here,  take  this,  it's  coffee."  "  No,  no,  the  petit  goutte  is 
better;  try  that  flask."  "He  shall  have  my  chocolate," 
said  an  old  major,  from  the  door  of  a  cafe.  And  thus  they 
pressed  and  solicited  me  with  a  generosity  that  I  had  yet  to 
learn  how  dear  it  cost. 

"  He  ought  to  be  dressed ;  "  "  He  should  be  in  uniform ;  " 
"  Is  better  as  he  is  ;  "  "  The  general  will  not  speak  to  him 
thus  ;  "  "  He  will ;  "  "  He  must." 

Such,  and  such  like,  kept  buzzing  around  me,  as  with 
reeling  brain  and  confused  vision  they  bore  me  up  the  great 
steps  and  carried  me  into  a  gorgeous  church,  the  most 
splendidly  ornamented  building  I  had  ever  beheld.  Except, 
however,  in  the  decorations  of  the  ceiling  and  the  images  of 
saints  which  figured  in  niches  high  up,  every  trace  of  a 
religious  edifice  had  disappeared.  The  pulpit  had  gone  ;  the 
chairs  and  seats  for  the  choir,  the  confessionals,  the  shrines, 
altars,  all  had  been  uprooted;  and  a  large  table,  at  which 
some  twenty  oflScers  were  seated  writing,  now  occupied  the 
elevated  platform  of  the  high  altar,  while  here  and  there 
stood  groups  of  officers,  with  their  reports  from  their  various 
corps  or  parties  in  out-stations.  Many  of  these  drew  near  to 
me  as  I  entered,  and  now  the  buzz  of  voices  in  question  and 
rejoinder  swelled  into  a  loud  noise;  and  while  some  were 
recounting  my  feat  with  all  the  seeming  accuracy  of  eye- 
witnesses, others  were  as  resolutely  protesting  it  all  to  be 
impossible.  Suddenly  the  tumult  was  hushed,  the  crowd 
fell  back,  and  as  the  clanking  muskets  proclaimed  a 
"  salute,"  a  whispered  murmur  announced  "  the  General." 

I  could  just  see  the  waving  plumes  of  his  staff  as  they 
passed  up;  and  then,  as  they  were  disappearing  in  the 
distance,  they  stopped,  and  one  hastily  returned  to  the 
entrance  of  the  church. 

"Where  is  this  fellow?  Let  me  see  him,"  cried  he,  hur- 
riedly, brushing  his  way  through  the  crowd.  "  Let  him 
stand  down;   set  him  on  his  legs." 

"  He  is  too  weak,  Capltaine.,''  said  a  soldier. 

"Place  him  in  a  chair,  then,"  said  the  aide-de-camp,  for 
such  he  was.  "  You  have  made  your  escape  from  the  English 
fleet,  my  man? "  continued  he,  addressing  me. 


342  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"  I  am  an  officer,  and  your  comrade,"  replied  I,  proudly; 
for  with  all  my  debility,  the  tone  of  his  address  stung  me  to 
the  quick. 

"  In  what  service,  pray?"  asked  he,  with  a  sneering  look 
at  my  motley  costume. 

"  Your  general  shall  hear  where  I  have  sei-ved,  and  how, 
whenever  he  is  pleased  to  ask  me,"  was  my  answer. 

"Ay,  jiarhleu!^^  cried  three  or  four  sous-officiers  in  a 
breath,   "  the  general  shall  see  him  himself." 

And  with  a  jerk  they  hoisted  me  once  more  on  their 
shoulders,  and  with  a  run  —  the  regular  storming  tramp  of 
the  line  —  they  advanced  up  the  aisle  of  the  church,  and 
never  halted  till  within  a  few  feet  of  where  the  staff  were 
gathered  around  the  general.  A  few  words  —  they  sounded 
like  a  reprimand  —  followed  ;  a  severe  voice  bade  the  soldiers 
"fall  back,"  and  I  found  myself  standing  alone  before  a 
tall  and  very  strongl3'-built  man,  with  a  large,  red-brown 
beard ;  he  wore  a  gray  upper  coat  over  his  uniform,  and 
carried  a  riding-whip  in  his  hand. 

"  Get  him  a  seat.  Let  him  have  a  glass  of  wine,"  cried 
he,  quickly,  as  he  saw  the  tottering  efforts  I  was  making  to 
keep  my  legs.  "  Are  you  better  now?"  asked  he,  in  a  voice 
which,  rough  as  it  was,  sounded  kindly. 

Seeing  me  so  far  restored,  he  desired  me  to  recount  my 
late  adventure,  which  I  did  in  the  fewest  words  and  the  most 
concise  fashion  I  could.  Although  never  interrupting,  I 
could  mark  that  particular  portions  of  my  naiTative  made 
much  impression  on  him,  and  he  could  not  repress  a  gesture 
of  impatience  when  I  told  him  that  I  was  impressed  as  a 
seaman  to  fight  against  the  flag  of  my  own  country. 

"Of  course,  then,"  cried  he,  "you  were  driven  to  the 
alternative  of  this  attempt." 

"Not  so.  General,"  said  I,  interrupting;  "I  had  grown 
to  be  very  indifferent  about  my  own  fortunes.  I  had  become 
half  fatalist  as  to  myself.  It  was  on  very  different  grounds, 
indeed,  that  I  dared  this  danger.  It  was  to  tell  you  —  for  if 
I  mistake  not  I  am  addressing  General  Massena  —  tidings 
of  deep  importance." 

I  said  these  words  slowly  and  deliberatel}^  and  giving 
them  all  the  impressiveness  I  was  able. 

"  Come  this  way,  friend,"  said  he,  and,  assisting  me  to 


/y/y^y/z'/y/W^r'^'  ,^^^/^/^y    .  y^y/y7y/y/y/:^yfy .  ^"7^^/:^^^.^'^^^/^/ ^/-V 


"GENOA   IN  THE   SIEGE."  343 

arise,  he  led  me  a  short  distance  off,  and  desired  me  to  sit 
down  on  the  steps  in  front  of  the  altar  railing.  "  Now  you 
may  speak  freely.  I  am  the  General  Massena,  and  I  have 
only  to  say  that  if  you  really  have  intelligence  of  any  value 
for  me  you  shall  be  liberally  rewarded ;  but  if  you  have 
not,  and  if  the  pretence  be  merely  an  effort  to  impose  on 
one  whose  cares  and  anxieties  are  already  hard  to  bear,  it 
would  be  better  that  you  had  perished  on  sea  than  tried  to 
attempt  it." 

There  was  a  stern  severity  in  the  way  he  said  this,  which 
for  a  moment  or  two  actually  overpowered  me.  It  was  quite 
clear  that  he  looked  for  some  positive  fact,  some  direct  piece 
of  information  on  which  he  might  implicitly  rely ;  and  here 
was  I  now  with  nothing  save  the  gossip  of  some  English 
lieutenants,  the  idle  talk  of  inexperienced  young  officers.  I 
was  silent.  From  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  wished  that  I 
had  never  reached  the  shore,  to  stand  in  a  position  of  such 
humiliation  as  this. 

"  So,  then,  my  caution  was  not  unneeded,"  said  the  gen- 
eral, as  he  bent  his  heavy  brows  upon  me.  "  Now,  sir,  there 
is  but  one  amende  jow  can  make  for  this :  tell  me  frankly, 
have  others  sent  you  on  this  errand,  or  is  the  scheme  entirely' 
of  your  own  devising  ?  Is  this  an  English  plot,  or  is  there  a 
Bourbon  element  in  it?  " 

"Neither  one  nor  the  other,"  said  I,  boldly,  for  indigna- 
tion at  last  gave  me  courage.  "I  hazarded  my  life  to  tell 
3'ou  what  I  overheard  among  the  officers  of  the  fleet  yonder. 
You  may  hold  their  judgment  cheap ;  you  may  not  think 
their  counsels  worth  the  pains  of  listening  to ;  but  I  could 
form  no  opinion  of  this,  and  only  thought  if  these  tidings 
could  reach  you,  you  might  profit  by  them." 

"  And  what  are  they?  "  asked  he,  bluntly. 

"  They  said  that  your  force  was  wasting  away  by  famine 
and  disease ;  that  your  supplies  could  not  hold  out  above  a 
fortnight ;  that  your  granaries  were  empty,  and  your  hospi- 
tals filled." 

"They  scarcely  wanted  the  gift  of  second  sight  to  see 
this,"  said  he,  bitterly.  "  A  garrison  in  close  siege  for  four 
months  may  be  suspected  of  as  much." 

"  Yes;  but  they  said  that  as  Soult's  force  fell  back  upon 
the  city,  your  position  would  be  rendered  worse." 


344  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

"  Fell  back  from  where?  "  asked  he,  with  a  searching  look 
at  me. 

"  As  I  understood,  from  the  Apennines,"  replied  I,  grow- 
ing more  confident  as  I  saw  that  he  became  more  attentive. 
"  If  I  understood  them  aright,  Soult  held  a  position  called 
the  Monte  Faccio.     Is  there  such  a  name?  " 

"Go  on,"  said  he,  with  a  nod  of  assent. 

"  That  this  could  not  long  be  tenable  without  gaining  the 
highest  fortified  point  of  the  mountain.  The  Monte  Creto 
they  named  it." 

"  The  attempt  on  which  has  failed  !  "  said  Massena,  as  if 
carried  away  by  the  subject;  "  and  Soult  himself  is  a  pris- 
oner!    Go  on." 

' '  They  added  that  now  but  one  hope  remained  for  this 
army." 

"And  what  was  that,  sir?"  said  he,  fiercely.  "What 
suggestion  of  cunning  strategy  did  these  sea-wolves  inti- 
mate ?  " 

"  To  cut  3^our  way  through  the  blockade,  and  join  Suchet's 
corps,  attacking  the  Austrians  at  the  Monte  Ratte,  and  by 
the  sea-road  gaining  the  heights  of  Bochetta." 

' '  Do  these  heroic  spirits  know  the  strength  of  that  same 
Austrian  corps  ?  Did  they  tell  you  that  it  numbered  fifty- 
four  thousand  ba^^onets  ?  " 

"They  called  them  below  forty  thousand ;  and  that  now 
that  Bonaparte  was  on  his  way  through  the  Alps,  perhaps  by 
this  time  over  the  Mount  Cenis  —  " 

"What!  did  they  say  this?  Is  Bonaparte  so  near  us?" 
cried  he,  placing  a  hand  on  either  shoulder,  as  he  stared  me 
in  the  face. 

"Yes;  there  is  no  doubt  of  that.  The  despatch  to  Lord 
Keith  brought  the  news  a  week  ago,  and  there  is  no  secret 
made  about  it  in  the  fleet." 

"  Over  Mount  Cenis  !  "  repeated  he  to  himself.  "  Already 
in  Italy !  " 

"Holding  straight  for  Milan,  Lord  Keith  thinks," 
added  I. 

"No,  sir,  —  straight  for  the  Tuileries,"  cried  Massena, 
sternly ;  and  then  correcting  himself  suddenly,  he  burst  into 
a  forced  laugh. 

I  must  confess  that  the  speech  puzzled  me  sorely  at  the 


"GENOA  IN  THE   SIEGE."  345 

time,  but  I  lived  to  learn  its  meaning;  and  many  a  time 
have  I  wondered  at  the  shrewd  foresight  which  even  then 
read  the  ambitious  character  of  the  future  emperor. 

"  Of  this  fact,  then,  you  are  quite  certain.  Bonaparte  is 
on  his  march  hither?" 

"  I  have  heard  it  spoken  of  every  day  for  the  last  week," 
replied  I ;  "  and  it  was  in  consequence  of  this  that  the  Eng- 
lish officers  used  to  remark,  '  If  Massena  but  knew  it, 
he  'd  make  a  dash  at  them,  and  clear  his  way  through  at 
once.' " 

"  They  said  this,  did  they?  "  said  he,  in  a  low  voice,  and 
as  if  pondering  over  it. 

''  Yes;  one  and  all  agreed  in  thinking  there  could  not  be 
a  doubt  of  the  result." 

"  AYhere  have  you  sei'\^ed,  sir?"  asked  he,  suddenly  turn- 
ing on  me,  and  with  a  look  that  showed  he  was  resolved  to 
test  the  character  of  the  witness. 

"  With  Moreau,  sir,  on  the  Rhine  and  the  Schwartz  Wald ; 
in  Ireland  with  Humbert." 

"  Your  regiment?  " 

"The  Ninth  Hussars." 

"The  Tapageurs,"  said  he,  laughing.  "I  know  them, 
and  glad  I  am  not  to  have  their  company  here  at  this  mo- 
ment ;  you  were  a  lieutenant  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  supposing  that  on  the  faith  of  what  you  have  told 
me  I  was  to  follow  the  wise  counsel  of  these  gentlemen, 
would  you  like  the  alternative  of  gaining  your  promotion  in 
the  event  of  success,  or  being  shot  by  a  peleton  if  we  fail?  " 

"They  seem  sharp  terms,  sir,"  said  I,  smiling,  "when  it 
is  remembered  that  no  individual  efforts  of  mine  can  either 
promote  one  result  or  the  other." 

"  Ay,  but  they  can  sir,"  cried  he,  quickly.  "  If  you  should 
turn  out  to  be  an  Austro-English  spy ;  if  these  tidings  be  of 
a  character  to  lead  my  troops  into  danger ;  if,  in  reliance  on 
you,  I  should  be  led  to  compromise  the  honor  and  safety  of 
a  French  army,  —  your  life,  were  it  worth  ten  thousand  times 
over  your  own  value  of  it,  would  be  a  sorry  recompense.  Is 
this  intelligible  ?  " 

"  Far  more  intelligible  than  flattering,"  said  I,  laughing; 
for  I  saw  that  the  best  mode  to  treat  him  was  by  an  imita- 


346  MAUKICE  TIERNAY. 

tion  of  his  own  frank  and  careless  humor.  "  I  have  already 
risked  that  life  you  hold  so  cheaply,  to  convey  this  informa- 
tion ;  but  I  am  still  ready  to  accept  the  conditions  you  offer 
me  if,  in  the  event  of  success,  my  name  appear  in  the 
despatch." 

He  again  stared  at  me  with  his  dark  and  piercing  eyes ; 
but  I  stood  the  glance  with  a  calm  conscience,  and  he  seemed 
so  to  read  it,  for  he  said,  — 

"Be  it  so.  I  will,  meanwhile,  test  your  prudence.  Let 
nothing  of  this  interview  transpire ;  not  a  word  of  it  among 
the  officers  and  comrades  you  shall  make  acquaintance  with. 
You  shall  sei'\'e  on  my  own  staff ;  go,  now,  and  recruit  your 
strength  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  then  report  yourself  at 
headquarters  when  ready  for  duty.  Latrobe,  look  to  the 
Lieutenant  Tiernay ;  see  that  he  wants  for  nothing,  and  let 
him  have  a  horse  and  a  uniform  as  soon  as  may  be." 

Captain  Latrobe,  the  future  general  of  division,  was  then 
a  young,  gay  officer  of  about  five-and-twenty,  very  good-look- 
ing, and  full  of  life  and  spirits,  a  buoyancy  which  the  terrible 
uncertainties  of  the  siege  could  not  repress. 

"Our  general  talks  nobly,  Tiernay,"  said  he,  as  he  gave 
me  his  arm  to  assist  me  ;  ' '  but  you  '11  stare  when  I  tell  you 
that  '  wanting  for  nothing '  means  having  four  ounces  of 
black  bread  and  ditto  of  blue  cheese  per  diem ;  and  as  to  a 
horse,  if  I  possessed  such  an  animal,  I  'd  have  given  a  dinner 
party  yesterday  and  eaten  him.  You  look  surprised,  but 
when  you  see  a  little  more  of  us  here,  you  '11  begin  to  think 
that  prison  rations  in  the  fleet  yonder  were  luxuries  compared 
to  what  we  have.  No  matter,  you  shall  take  share  of  my 
superabundance ;  and  if  I  have  little  else  to  offer,  I  '11  show 
you  a  view  from  my  window  finer  than  anything  you  ever 
looked  on  in  your  life,  and  with  a  sea  breeze  that  would  be 
glorious  if  it  didn't  make  one  hungry." 

While  he  thus  rattled  on  we  reached  the  street,  and  there 
calling  a  couple  of  soldiers  forward,  he  directed  them  to 
carry  me  along  to  his  quarters,  which  lay  in  the  upper  town, 
on  an  elevated  plateau  that  overlooked  the  city  and  the  bay 
together. 

From  the  narrow  lanes  flanked  with  tall,  gloomy  houses, 
and  steep,  ill-paved  streets  exhibiting  poverty  and  privation 
of  every  kind,  we  suddenly  emerged  into  an  open  space  of 


"GENOxV   IN  THE    SIEGE."  347 

grass,  at  one  side  of  which  a  handsome  iron  railing  stood, 
with  a  richly-ornamented  gate  gorgeously  gilded.  Within 
this  was  a  garden  and  a  fish-pond  surrounded  with  statues, 
and  further  on  a  long,  low  villa,  whose  windows  reached  to 
the  ground,  and  were  shaded  by  a  deep  awning  of  striped 
blue  and  white  canvas.  Camellias,  orange-trees,  cactuses, 
and  magnolias  abounded  everywhere ;  tulips  and  hyacinths 
seemed  to  grow  wild ;  and  there  was  in  the  half-neglected 
look  of  the  spot  something  of  savage  luxuriance  that  height- 
ened the  effect  immensely. 

"  This  is  my  Paradise,  Tiernay,  only  wanting  an  Eve  to  be 
perfect,"  said  Latrobe,  as  he  set  me  down  beneath  a  spread- 
ing lime-tree.  "Yonder  are  your  English  friends;  there 
they  stretch  away  for  miles  beyond  that  point.  That 's  the 
Monte  Creto  you  may  have  heard  of ;  and  there 's  the  Bo- 
chetta.  In  that  valle}^,  to  the  left,  the  Austrian  outposts  are 
stationed ;  and  from  those  two  heights  closer  to  the  shore 
they  are  gracious  enough  to  salute  us  every  evening  after 
sunset,  and  even  prolong  the  attention  sometimes  the  whole 
night  thi'ough.  Turn  your  eyes  in  this  du-ection,  and  you  '11 
see  the  cornice  road,  that  leads  to  la  belle  France,  but  of 
which  we  see  as  much  from  this  spot  as  we  are  ever  like  to  do. 
So  much  for  the  geography  of  our  position  ;  and  now  to  look 
after  your  breakfast.  You  have,  of  course,  heard  that  we 
do  not  revel  in  superfluities.  Never  was  the  boasted  excel- 
lence of  our  national  cookery  more  severely  tested,  for  we 
have  successively  descended  from  cows  and  sheep  to  goats, 
horses,  donkeys,  dogs,  occasionally  experimenting  on  hides 
and  shoe-leather,  till  we  ended  by  regarding  a  rat  as  a  rarity, 
and  deeming  a  mouse  a  delicacy  of  the  season.  As  for  vege- 
tables, there  would  not  have  been  a  flowering  plant  in  all 
Genoa  if  tulip  and  ranunculous  roots  had  not  been  bitter  as 
aloes.  These  seem  very  inhospitable  confessions,  but  I 
make  them  the  more  freely  since  I  am  about  to  treat  you  en 
gourmet.  Come  in  now,  and  acknowledge  that  juniper  bark 
isn't  bad  coffee,  and  that  commissary  bread  is  not  to  be 
thought  of  'lightly.'" 

In  this  fashion  did  my  comrade  invite  me  to  a  meal,  which, 
even  with  this  preface,  was  far  more  miserable  and  scanty 
than  I  looked  for. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


A    NOVEL    COUNCIL    OF    WAR. 


I  HAD  scarcely  finished  my  breakfast  when  a  group  of  officers 
rode  up  to  our  quarters  to  visit  me.  My  arrival  had  already 
created  an  immense  sensation  in  the  city,  and  all  kinds  of 
rumors  were  afloat  as  to  the  tidings  I  had  brought.  The 
meagreness  of  the  information  would,  indeed,  have  seemed  in 
strong  contrast  to  the  enterprise  and  hazard  of  the  escape, 
had  I  not  the  craft  to  eke  it  out  by  that  process  of  suggestion 
and  speculation  in  which  I  was  rather  an  adept. 

Little  in  substance  as  my  information  was,  all  the  younger 
officers  were  in  favor  of  acting  upon  it.  "  The  English  are 
no  bad  judges  of  our  position  and  chances,"  was  the  constant 
argument.  "They  see  exactly  how  we  stand;  they  know 
the  relative  forces  of  our  army  and  the  enemy's  ;  "  and  if  the 
"cautious  islanders"  —  such  was  the  phrase  —  advised  a 
coup  de  main^  it  surely  must  have  much  in  its  favor.  I  lay 
stress  upon  the  remark,  trifling  as  it  may  seem ;  but  it  is 
curious  to  know  that  with  all  the  immense  successes  of  Eng- 
land on  sea,  her  reputation  at  that  time  among  Frenchmen 
was  rather  for  prudent  and  well-matured  undertakings,  than 
for  those  daring  enterprises  which  are  as  much  the  character 
of  her  courage. 

My  visitors  continued  to  pour  in  during  the  morning, 
officers  of  every  arm  and  rank,  —  some  from  mere  idle  curi- 
osity, some  to  question  and  interrogate,  and  not  a  few  to 
solve  doubts  in  then*  mind  as  to  my  being  really  French  and 
a  soldier,  and  not  an  agent  of  that ' '  perfide  Albion  "  whose 
treachery  was  become  a  proverb  amongst  us.  Many  were 
disappointed  at  my  knowing  so  little.  I  neither  could  tell 
the  date  of  Napoleon's  passing  St.  Gothard,  nor  the  amount 
of  his  force  ;  neither  knew  I  whether  he  meant  to  turn  east- 


A  NOVEL   COUNCIL  OF   WAR.  349 

ward  towards  the  plains  of  Lombardy,  or  march  direct  to  the 
relief  of  Genoa.  Of  Moreau's  successes  in  Germany,  too, 
I  had  only  heard  vaguely,  and  of  course  could  recount 
nothing.  I  could  overhear,  occasionally,  around  and  about 
me,  the  murmurs  of  dissatisfaction  my  ignorance  called  forth, 
and  was  not  a  little  grateful  to  an  old  artillery  captain  for 
saying,  "That's  the  very  best  thing  about  the  lad;  a  spy 
would  have  had  his  whole  lesson  by  heart." 

"  You  are  right,  su',"  cried  I,  catching  at  the  words.  "  I 
may  know  but  little,  and  that  little,  perhaps,  valueless  and 
insignificant ;  but  my  truth  no  man  shall  gainsay." 

The  boldness  of  this  speech  from  one  wasted  and  miserable 
as  I  was,  with  tattered  shoes  and  ragged  clothes,  caused  a 
hearty  laugh,  in  which,  as  much  from  policy  as  feeling,  I 
joined  myself. 

"Come  here,  mon  clier^''  said  an  infantry  colonel,  as, 
walking  to  the  door  of  the  room,  he  drew  his  telescope  from 
his  pocket ;  ' '  you  tell  us  of  a  coup  de  main  —  on  the  Monte 
Faccio,  is  it  not?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  I,  promptly,  "  so  I  understand  the  name." 

"  Well,  have  you  ever  seen  the  place?  " 

"Never." 

"Well,  there  it  is  yonder;  "  and  he  handed  me  his  glass 
as  he  spoke;  "you  see  that  large  beetling  cliff,  with  the 
olives  at  the  foot.  There,  on  the  summit,  stands  the  Monte 
Faccio.  The  road  —  the  pathway  rather,  and  a  steep  one  it 
is  —  leads  up  where  you  see  those  goats  feeding,  and  crosses 
in  front  of  the  crag,  directly  beneath  the  fire  of  the  batteries. 
There 's  not  a  spot  on  the  whole  ascent  where  three  men 
could  march  abreast ;  and  wherever  there  is  any  shelter  from 
fire,  the  guns  of  the  Sprona,  that  small  fort  to  the  right,  take 
the  whole  position.  What  do  you  think  of  your  counsel 
now?" 

"  You  forget,  sir,  it  is  not  my  counsel.  I  merely  repeat 
what  I  overheard." 

"And  do  you  mean  to  say  that  the  men  who  gave  that 
advice  were  serious,  or  capable  of  adopting  it  themselves?" 

"  Most  assuredly  ;  they  would  never  recommend  to  others 
what  they  felt  unequal  to  themselves.  I  know  these  English 
well,  and  so  much  will  I  say  of  them." 


350  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"Bah!"  cried  he,  with  an  insolent  gesture  of  his  hand, 
and  turned  away ;  and  I  could  plainly  see  that  my  praises  of 
the  enemy  were  very  ill  taken.  In  fact,  my  unlucky  burst 
of  generosity  had  done  more  to  damage  my  credit  than  all 
the  dangerous  or  impracticable  features  of  my  scheme. 
Every  eye  was  turned  to  the  bold  precipice  and  the  stern 
fortress  that  crowned  it,  and  all  agreed  that  an  attack  must 
be  hopeless. 

I  saw,  too  late,  the  great  fault  I  had  committed,  and  that 
nothing  could  be  more  wanting  in  tact  than  to  suggest  to 
Frenchmen  an  enterprise  which  Englishmen  deemed  practi- 
cable, and  which  yet  to  the  former  seemed  beyond  all  reach 
of  success.  The  insult  was  too  palpable  and  too  du'ect ;  but 
to  retract  was  impossible,  and  I  had  now  to  sustain  a 
proposition  which  gave  offence  on  every  side. 

It  was  very  mortifying  to  me  to  see  how  soon  all  my 
personal  credit  was  merged  in  this  unhappy  theory.  No 
one  thought  more  of  my  hazardous  escape,  the  perils  I 
encountered,  or  the  sufferings  I  had  undergone.  All  that 
was  remembered  of  me  was  the  affront  I  had  offered  to  the 
national  courage,  and  the  preference  I  had  implied  to 
English  bravery. 

Never  did  I  pass  a  more  tormenting  day.  New  arrivals 
continually  refreshed  the  discussion,  and  always  with  the 
same  results ;  and  although  some  were  satisfied  to  convey 
theii'  opinions  by  a  shake  of  the  head  or  a  dubious  smile, 
others,  more  candid  than  civil,  plainly  intimated  that  if  I 
had  nothing  of  more  consequence  to  tell,  I  might  as  well 
have  stayed  where  I  was,  and  not  added  one  more  to  a 
garrison  so  closely  pressed  by  hunger.  Very  little  more  of 
such  reasoning  would  have  persuaded  myself  of  its  truth, 
and  I  almost  began  to  wish  that  I  was  once  more  back  in  the 
sick  bay  of  the  frigate. 

Towards  evening  I  was  left  alone ;  my  host  went  down  to 
the  town  on  duty ;  and  after  the  visit  of  a  tailor,  who  came 
to  trj^  on  me  a  staff  uniform,  —  a  distinction,  I  afterwards 
learned,  owing  to  the  abundance  of  this  class  of  costume,  and 
not  to  any  claims  I  could  prefer  to  the  rank,  —  I  was  per- 
fectly free  to  stroll  about  where  I  pleased  unmolested,  and, 
no  small  blessing,  unquestioned. 


A  NOVEL   COUNCIL  OF   WAR.  351 

On  following  along  the  walls  for  some  distance,  I  came  to 
a  part  where  a  succession  of  deep  ravines  opened  at  the  foot 
of  the  bastions,  conducting  by  many  a  tortuous  and  rocky 
glen  to  the  Apennines.  The  sides  of  these  gorges  were 
dotted  here  and  there  with  wild  hollies  and  fig-trees,  stunted 
and  ill- thriven,  as  the  nature  of  the  soil  might  imply. 
Still,  for  the  sake  of  the  few  berries  or  the  sapless  fruit 
they  bore,  the  soldiers  of  the  garrison  were  accustomed  to 
creep  out  from  the  embrasures  and  descend  the  steep  cliffs,  — 
a  peril  great  enough  in  itself,  but  terribly  increased  by  the 
risk  of  exposure  to  the  enemy's  Tirailleurs,  as  well  as  the 
consequences  such  indiscipline  would  bring  down  on  them. 

So  frequent,  however,  had  been  these  infractions  that 
little  footpaths  were  worn  bare  along  the  face  of  the  cliff, 
traversing  in  many  a  zigzag  a  surface  that  seemed  like  a 
wall.  It  was  almost  incredible  that  men  would  brave  such 
■peril  for  so  little,  but  famine  had  rendered  them  indifferent 
to  death ;  and  although  debility  exhibited  itself  in  every 
motion  and  gesture,  the  men  would  stand  unshrinking  and 
undismayed  beneath  the  fire  of  a  battery.  At  one  spot 
near  the  angle  of  a  bastion,  and  where  some  shelter  from 
the  north  winds  protected  the  place,  a  little  clump  of  orange- 
trees  stood,  and  towards  these,  though  fully  a  mile  off,  many 
a  foot- track  led,  showing  how  strong  had  been  the  temptation 
in  that  quarter.  To  reach  it,  the  precipice  should  be 
traversed,  the  gorge  beneath  and  a  considerable  ascent  of 
the  opposite  mountain  accomplished ;  and  yet  all  these 
dangers  had  been  successfully  encountered,  merely  instigated 
by  hunger ! 

High  above  this  very  spot,  at  a  distance  of  perhaps  eight 
hundred  feet,  stood  the  Monte  Faccio,  —  the  large  black  and 
yellow  banner  of  Austria  floating  from  its  walls,  as  if  amid 
the  clouds.  I  could  see  the  muzzles  of  the  great  guns 
protruding  from  the  embrasures ;  and  I  could  even  catch 
glances  of  a  tall  bearskin,  as  some  soldier  passed  or  repassed 
behind  the  parapet,  and  I  thought  how  terrible  would  be  the 
attempt  to  storm  such  a  position.  It  was,  indeed,  true  that 
if  I  had  the  least  conception  of  the  strength  of  the  fort,  I 
never  should  have  dared  to  talk  of  a  cojip  de  viain.  Still,  I 
was  in  a  manner  pledged  to  the  suggestion.     I  had  perilled 


352  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

my  life  for  it,  and  few  men  do  as  much  for  an  opinion ;  for 
this  reason  I  resolved,  come  what  would,  to  maintain  my 
ground  and  hold  fast  to  my  conviction.  I  never  could  be 
called  upon  to  plan  the  expedition,  nor  could  it  by  any 
possibility  be  confided  to  my  guidance ;  responsibility  could 
not,  therefore,  attach  to  me.  All  these  were  strong  argu- 
ments, at  least  quite  strong  enough  to  decide  a  wavering 
judgment. 

Meditating  on  these  things,  I  strolled  back  to  my  quarters. 
As  I  entered  the  garden  I  found  that  several  officers  were 
assembled,  among  whom  was  Colonel  de  Barre,  the  brother 
of  the  general  of  that  name  who  afterwards  fell  at  the 
Borodino.  He  was  chef  cVetat  major  to  Massena,  and  a 
most  distinguished  and  brave  soldier.  Unlike  the  fashion  of 
the  day,  which  made  the  military  man  affect  the  rough 
coarseness  of  a  savage,  seasoning  his  talk  with  oaths  and 
curses  and  low  expressions,  De  Barre  had  something  of  the 
petit  maitre  in  his  address,  which  nothing  short  of  his  well- 
proved  courage  would  have  saved  from  ridicule.  His  voice 
was  low  and  soft,  his  smile  perpetual ;  and  although  well- 
bred  enough  to  have  been  dignified  and  easy,  a  certain 
fidgety  impulse  to  be  pleasing  made  him  always  appear 
affected  and  unnatural.  Never  was  there  such  a  contrast  to 
his  chief ;  but  indeed  it  was  said  that  to  this  very  disparity 
of  temperament  he  owed  all  the  influence  he  possessed  over 
Massena's  mind. 

I  might  have  been  a  general  of  division  at  the  very  least, 
to  judge  from  the  courteous  deference  of  the  salute  with 
which  he  approached  me,  —  a  politeness  the  more  striking,  as 
all  the  others  immediatel}'  fell  back,  to  leave  us  to  converse 
together.  I  was  actualh^  overcome  with  the  flattering  terms 
in  which  he  addressed  me  on  the  subject  of  my  escape. 

"  I  could  scarcely  at  first  credit  the  story,"  said  he,  "  but 
when  they  told  me  that  you  were  a  '  Ninth  man,'  one  of  the 
old  Tapageurs,  I  never  doubted  it  more.  You  see  what  a 
bad  character  is.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay !  "  It  was  the  first 
time  I  had  ever  heard  the  prefix  to  my  name,  and  I  own  the 
sound  was  pleasurable.  "  I  served  a  few  months  with  your 
corps  myself,  but  I  soon  saw  there  was  no  chance  of  pro- 
motion among  fellows  all  more  eager  than  myself  for  dis- 


A  NOVEL  COUNCIL   OF   WAR.  353 

tinction.     Well,  sir,  it  is  precisely  to  this  reputation  I  have 
yielded  my  credit,  and  to  which  General  Massena  is  kind 
enough  to  concede  his  own  confidence.     Your  advice  is  about 
to  be  acted  on.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay." 
"  The  CO  1(2?  de  main  —  " 

"A  little  lower,  if  you  please,  my  dear  sir.  The 
expedition  is  to  be  conducted  with  every  secrecy,  even 
from  the  officers  of  every  rank  below  a  command.  Have 
the  goodness  to  walk  along  with  me  this  way.  If  I 
understand  General  Massena  aright,  your  information  con- 
ve3^s  no  details,  nor  any  particular  suggestions  as  to  the 
attack." 

''None  whatever,  sir.  It  was  the  mere  talk  of  a 
gun-room,  —  the  popular  opinion  among  a  set  of  young 
officers." 

''I  understand,"  said  he,  with  a  bow  and  a  smile;   "the 
suggestion  of  a  number  of  high-minded  and  daring  soldiers 
as  to  what  they  deemed  practicable." 
"  Precisely,  sir." 

"  Neither  could  you  collect  from  their  conversation  any- 
thing which  bore  upon  the  number  of  the  Austrian  advance 
guard,  or  their  state  of  preparation?" 

"  Nothing,  sir.  The  opinion  of  the  English  was,  I  suspect, 
mainly  founded  on  the  great  superiority  of  our  forces  to  the 
enemy's  in  all  attacks  of  this  kind." 

"Our  'esprit  Tapageur,'  eh?"  said  he,  laughing,  and 
pinching  my  arm  familiarly,  and  I  joined  in  the  laugh  with 
pleasure.  "Well,  Monsieur  de  Tiernay,  let  us  endeavor  to 
sustain  this  good  impression.  The  attempt  is  to  be  made 
to-night." 

"To-night!"  exclaimed  I,  in  amazement;  for  everything 
within  the  city  seemed  tranquil  and  still. 

"To-night,  sir;  and,  by  the  kind  favor  of  General 
Massena,  lam  to  lead  the  attack ;  the  reserve,  if  we  are  ever 
to  want  it,  being  under  his  own  command.  It  is  to  be  at 
your  own  option  on  which  staff  you  will  serve." 

"  On  yours,  of  course,  sir,"  cried  I,  hastily.  "  A  man  who 
stands  unknown  and  unvouched  for  among  his  comrades,  as 
I  do,  has  but  one  way  to  vindicate  his  claim  to  credit,  by 
partaking  the  peril  he  counsels." 

23 


354  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

' '  There  could  be  no  doubt  either  of  your  judgment  or 
the  sound  reasons  for  it,"  replied  the  colonel;  "the  only 
question  was,  whether  you  might  be  unequal  to  the 
fatigue." 

"Trust  me,  sk,  you'll  not  have  to  send  me  to  the  rear," 
said  I,  laughing. 

"  Then  you  are  extra  on  my  staff.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay." 

As  we  walked  along,  he  proceeded  to  give  me  the  details  of 
our  expedition,  which  was  to  be  on  a  far  stronger  scale  than 
I  anticipated.  Three  battalions  of  infantry,  with  four  light 
batteries  and  as  many  squadrons  of  dragoons,  were  to  form 
the  advance. 

' '  We  shall  neither  want  the  artillery  nor  cavalry,  except 
to  cover  a  retreat,"  said  he.  "I  trust,  if  it  come  to  that, 
there  will  not  be  many  of  us  to  protect;  but  such  are  the 
general's  orders,  and  we  have  but  to  obey  them." 

With  the  great  events  of  that  night  on  my  memory,  it  is 
strange  that  I  should  retain  so  accurately  in  my  mind  the 
trivial  and  slight  circumstances,  which  are  as  fresh  before  me 
as  if  they  had  occurred  but  yesterday. 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock,  of  a  dark  but  starry  night, 
not  a  breath  of  wind  blowing,  that,  passing  through  a 
number  of  gloomy,  narrow  streets,  I  suddenly  found  myself 
in  the  courtyard  of  the  Balbe  Palace.  A  large  marble 
fountain  was  playing  in  the  centre,  around  which  several 
lamps  were  lighted ;  by  these  I  could  see  that  the  place  was 
crowded  with  officers,  some  seated  at  tables  drinking,  some 
smoking,  and  others  lounging  up  and  down  in  conversation. 
Huge  loaves  of  black  bread  and  wicker-covered  flasks  of 
country  wine  formed  the  entertainment ;  but  even  these,  to 
judge  from  the  zest  of  the  guests,  were  no  common  delicacies. 
At  the  foot  of  a  little  marble  group,  and  before  a  small  table 
with  a  map  on  it,  sat  General  Massena  himself,  in  his  gray 
over-coat,  cutting  his  bread  with  a  case  knife,  while  he  talked 
away  to  his  staff. 

"  These  maps  are  good  for  nothing,  Bressi,"  cried  he.  "  To 
look  at  them,  you  'd  say  that  every  road  was  practicable  for 
artillery,  and  every  river  passable ;  and  you  find  afterwards 
that  all  these  fine  chaussees  are  bypaths,  and  the  rivulets 
downright  torrents.     Who  knows  the  Chiavari  road  ?  " 


A  NOVEL  COUNCIL  OF  WAR.  355 

"Giorgio  knows  it  well,  sir,"  said  the  oflScer  addressed, 
and  who  was  a  young  Piedmontese  from  Massena's  own 
village. 

"  Ah,  Birbaute  !  "  cried  the  general,  "  are  you  here  again?  " 
and  he  turned  laughingly  towards  a  little  bandy-legged  mon- 
ster, of  less  than  three  feet  high,  who,  with  a  cap  stuck 
jauntily  on  one  side  of  his  head,  and  a  wooden  sword  at 
his  side,  stepped  foi-ward  with  all  the  confidence  of  an 
equal. 

"Ay,  here  I  am,"  said  he,  raising  his  hand  to  his  cap, 
soldier  fashion ;  ' '  there  was  nothing  else  for  it  but  this 
trade,"  and  he  placed  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  wooden 
weapon.  "  You  cut  down  all  the  mulberries,  and  left  us  no 
silkworms  ;  you  burned  all  the  olives,  and  left  us  no  oil ;  you 
trampled  down  our  maize  crops  and  oui'  ^ines.  Fer  Baccho  ! 
the  only  thing  left  was  to  turn  brigand  like  yourself,  and  see 
what  would  come  of  it." 

"Is  he  not  cool  to  talk  thus  to  a  general  at  the  head  of  his 
staff?"  said  Massena,  with  an  assumed  gi'a\ity. 

"  I  knew  you  when  you  wore  a  different  looking  epaulette 
than  that  there,"  said  Giorgio,  "  and  when  you  carried  one 
of  your  father's  meal  sacks  on  your  shoulder,  instead  of  all 
that  bravery." 

"  Parhleu  !  so  he  did,"  cried  Massena,  laughing  heartily. 
"That  scoundrel  was  always  about  our  mill,  and,  I  believe, 
lived  by  thie\ang !  "  added  he,  pointing  to  the  dwarf. 

"  Every  one  did  a  little  that  way  in  our  village,"  said  the 
dwarf ;  ' '  but  none  ever  profited  by  his  education  like  your- 
self." 

If  the  general  and  some  of  the  younger  officers  seemed 
highly  amused  at  the  fellow's  impudence  and  effrontery,  some 
of  the  others  looked  angry  and  indignant.  A  few  were  really 
wellborn,  and  could  afford  to  smile  at  these  recognitions ; 
but  many  who  sprung  from  an  origin  even  more  humble  than 
the  general's  could  not  conceal  their  angry  indignation  at 
the  scene. 

"I  see  that  these  gentlemen  are  impatient  of  our  vulgar 
recollections,"  said  Massena,  with  a  sardonic  grin;  "  so  now 
to  business,  Giorgio.  You  know  the  Chiavari  road  —  what 
is 't  like?" 


356  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"  Good  enough  to  look  at,  but  mined  in  four  places." 

The  general  gave  a  significant  glance  at  the  staff,  and  bade 
him  go  on. 

"The  white  coats  are  strong  in  that  quarter,  and  have 
eight  guns  to  bear  upon  the  road  where  it  passes  beneath 
Monte  Ratte." 

' '  Why,  I  was  told  that  the  pass  was  undefended  !  "  cried 
Massena,  angrily;  "that  a  few  skirmishers  were  all  that 
could  be  seen  near  it." 

' '  All  that  could  be  seen !  —  so  they  are  ;  but  there  are 
eight  twelve-pounder  guns  in  the  brushwood,  with  shot  and 
shell  enough  to  be  seen  and  felt  too." 

Massena  now  turned  to  the  officers  near  him,  and  conversed 
with  them  eagerly  for  some  time.  The  debated  point  I  sub- 
sequently heard  was  how  to  make  a  feint  attack  on  the 
Chiavari  road,  to  mask  the  coui^  de  main  intended  for  the 
Monte  Faccio.  To  give  the  false  attack  any  color  of  reality 
required  a  larger  force  and  greater  preparation  than  they 
could  afford,  and  this  was  now  the  great  difliculty.  At  last 
it  was  resolved  that  this  should  be  a  mere  demonstration,  not 
to  push  far  beyond  the  walls,  but,  by  all  the  semblance  of  a 
serious  advance,  to  attract  as  much  attention  as  possible 
from  the  enemy. 

Another  and  a  greater  embarrassment  lay  in  the  fact  that 
the  troops  intended  for  the  cowp  de  m.aln  had  no  other  exit 
than  the  gate  which  led  to  Chiavari ;  so  that  the  two  lines  of 
march  would  intersect  and  interfere  with  each  other.  Could 
we  even  have  passed  out  our  Tirailleurs  in  advance,  the  sup- 
port could  easily  follow ;  but  the  enemy  would,  of  course, 
notice  the  direction  our  advance  would  take,  and  our  object 
be  immediately  detected. 

"  Why  not  pass  the  skirmishers  out  by  the  embrasures,  to 
the  left  yonder,"  said  I;  "I  see  many  a  track  where  men 
have  gone  already." 

"  It  is  steep  as  a  wall,"  cried  one. 

"  And  there  's  a  breast  of  rock  in  front  that  no  foot  could 
scale." 

"  You  have  at  least  a  thousand  feet  of  precipice  above  you, 
when  you  reach  the  glen,  if  ever  you  do  reach  it  alive." 

' '  And  this  to  be  done  in  the  darkness  of  a  night !  " 


A  NOVEL  COUNCIL  OF  WAR.  357 

Such  were  the  discouraging  comments  which  rattled,  quick 
as  musketry,  around  me. 

"The  lieutenant's  right,  nevertheless,"  said  Giorgio. 
"Half  the  voltigeurs  of  the  garrison  know  the  path  well 
already ;  and  as  to  darkness  —  if  there  were  a  moon  you 
dared  not  attempt  it." 

"  There 's  some  truth  in  that,"  observed  an  old  major. 

"Could  you  promise  to  guide  them,  Giorgio?"  said 
Massena. 

"  Yes,  every  step  of  the  way ;  up  to  the  very  walls  of  the 
fort." 

"There,  then,"  cried  the  general,  "one  great  difficulty  is 
got  over  already." 

"Not  so  fast,  Generale  mio,"  said  the  dwarf;  "I  said  I 
could,  but  I  never  said  that  I  would." 

"Not  for  a  liberal  present,  Giorgio;  not  if  I  filled  that 
leather  pouch  of  yours  with  five-franc  pieces,  man?" 

"  I  might  not  live  to  spend  it,  and  I  care  little  for  my  next 
of  kin,"  said  the  dwarf,  dryly. 

"  I  don't  think  that  we  need  his  services,  General,"  said  I; 
"I  saw  the  place  this  evening,  and  however  steep  it  seems 
from  the  walls,  the  descent  is  practicable  enough,  —  at  least 
I  am  certain  that  our  Tirailleurs,  in  the  Black  Forest,  would 
never  have  hesitated  about  it." 

I  little  knew  that  when  I  uttered  this  speech  I  had  sent  a 
shot  into  the  very  heart  of  the  magazine,  the  ruling  passion  of 
Massena's  mind  being  an  almost  insane  jealousy  of  Moreau's 
militar}'^  fame,  —  his  famous  campaign  of  Southern  German}', 
and  his  wonderful  retreat  upon  the  Rhine,  being  regarded  as 
achievements  of  the  highest  order. 

' '  I  've  got  some  of  those  regiments  you  speak  of  in  my 
brigade  here,  sir,"  said  he,  addressing  himself  directly  to  me, 
"  and  I  must  own  that  their  discipline  reflects  but  little  credit 
on  the  skill  of  so  great  an  officer  as  General  Moreau ;  and  as 
to  light  troops,  I  fancy  Colonel  de  Vallence  yonder  would 
scarcely  feel  it  a  flattery  were  you  to  tell  him  to  take  a  lesson 
from  them." 

"  I  have  just  been  speaking  to  Colonel  de  Vallence, 
General,"  said  Colonel  de  Barre.  "  He  confirms  everything 
Monsieur  de  Tiernay  tells  us  of  the  practicable  nature  of 


358  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

these  paths ;  his  fellows  have  tracked  them  at  all  hours,  and 
neither  want  guidance  nor  direction  to  go." 

"  In  that  case  I  may  as  well  offer  my  sendees,"  said 
Giorgio,  tightening  his  belt;  "  but  I  must  tell  you  that  it  is 
too  late  to  begin  to-night,  —  we  must  start  immediately  after 
nightfall.  It  will  take  from  forty  to  fifty  minutes  to  descend 
the  cliff,  a  good  two  houi'S  to  climb  the  ascent,  so  that  you  '11 
not  have  much  time  to  spare  before  daybreak." 

Giorgio's  opinion  was  backed  by  several  others,  and  it  was 
finally  resolved  upon  that  the  attempt  should  be  made  on  the 
following  evening.  Meanwhile  the  dwarf  was  committed  to 
the  safe  custody  of  a  sergeant,  affectedly  to  look  to  his 
proper  care  and  treatment,  but  really  to  guard  against  any 
imprudent  revelations  that  he  might  make  respecting  the 
intended  attack. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


GENOA    DURING    THE    SIEGE. 


If  the  natural  perils  of  the  expedition  were  sufficient  to 
suggest  grave  thoughts,  the  sight  of  the  troops  that  were  to 
form  it  was  even  a  stronger  incentive  to  fear.  I  could  not 
believe  my  eyes,  as  I  watched  the  battalions  which  now 
deployed  before  me.  Always  accustomed,  whatever  the 
hardships  they  were  opposed  to,  to  see  French  soldiers  light- 
hearted,  gay,  and  agile,  performing  their  duties  in  a  spirit 
of  sportive  pleasure,  as  if  soldiering  were  but  fun,  —  what 
was  the  shock  I  received  at  sight  of  these  care-worn,  down- 
cast, hollow-cheeked  fellows,  dragging  their  legs  wearily 
along,  and  scarcely  seeming  to  hear  the  words  of  command. 
Then-  clothes  patched  and  mended,  sometimes  too  big,  some- 
times too  little,  showing  that  they  had  changed  wearers 
without  being  altered ;  their  tattered  shoes,  tied  on  with 
strings  round  the  ankles ;  their  very  weapons  dirty  and  un- 
cared  for,  —  they  resembled  rather  a  horde  of  bandits  than 
the  troops  of  the  first  army  of  Europe.  There  was,  besides, 
an  expression  of  stealthy,  treacherous  ferocity  in  their  faces 
such  as  I  never  saw  before.  To  this  pitiable  condition  had 
they  been  brought  by  stai'\^ation.  Not  alone  the  horses  had 
been  eaten,  but  dogs  and  cats  ;  even  the  vermin  of  the  cellars 
and  sewers  was  consumed  as  food.  Leather  and  skins  were 
all  eagerly  devoured  ;  and  there  is  but  too  terrible  reason  to 
believe  that  human  flesh  itself  was  used  to  prolong  for  a  few 
hours  this  existence  of  misery. 

As  they  defiled  into  the  Piazza,  there  seemed  a  kind  of 
effort  to  assume  the  port  and  bearing  of  their  craft;  and 
although  many  stumbled  and  some  actually  fell  from  weak- 
ness, there  was  an  evident  attempt  to  put  on  a  military 
appearance.    The  manner  of  the  adjutant,  as  he  passed  down 


360  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

the  line,  revealed  at  once  the  exact  position  of  affaii's.  No 
longer  inspecting  every  little  detail  of  equipment,  criticising 
this  or  remarking  on  that,  his  whole  attention  was  given  to 
the  condition  of  the  musket,  whose  lock  he  closely  scruti- 
nized, and  then  turned  to  the  cartouch-box.  The  ragged 
uniforms,  the  uncouth  shakos,  the  belts  dirty  and  awry,  never 
called  forth  a  word  of  rebuke.  Too  glad,  as  it  seemed,  to 
recoo'nize  even  the  remnants  of  discipline,  he  came  back 
from  his  inspection  apparently  well  satisfied  and  content. 

"These  fellows  turn  out  well,"  said  Colonel  de  Barre,  as 
he  looked  along  the  line ;  and  I  started  to  see  if  the  speech 
were  an  unfeeling  jest.  Far  from  it ;  he  spoke  in  all  serious- 
ness !  The  terrible  scenes  he  had  for  months  been  witness- 
ing —  the  men  dropping  from  hunger  at  their  posts ;  the 
sentries  fainting  as  they  carried  arms,  and  borne  away  to 
the  hospital  to  die ;  the  bursts  of  madness  that  would  now 
and  then  break  forth  from  men  whose  agony  became  un- 
endurable—  had  so  steeled  him  to  horrors,  that  even  this 
poor  shadow  of  military  display  seemed  orderly  and 
imposing. 

"They  are  the  Twenty-second,  Colonel,"  replied  the 
adjutant,  proudly,  "  a  corps  that  always  have  maintained 
their  character,  whether  on  parade  or  under  fire !  " 

"Ah!  the  Twenty-second,  are  they?  They  have  come  up 
from  Ronco,  then  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  they  were  all  that  General  Soult  could  spare 
us." 

"Fine-looking  fellows  they  are,"  said  De  BaiTe,  scanning 
them  through  his  glass.  "The  third  company  is  a  little,  a 
very  little,  to  the  rear  —  don't  you  perceive  it?  —  and  the 
flank  is  a  thought  or  so  restless  and  unsteady." 

"  A  sergeant  has  just  been  carried  to  the  rear  ill,  sir,"  said 
a  young  officer,  in  a  low  voice. 

"The  heat,  I  have  no  doubt;  a  colpo  dl  sole^  as  they  tell 
us  everything  is,"  said  De  Barre.  "  By  the  way,  is  not  this 
the  regiment  that  boasts  the  pretty  vivandiere  ?  AVhat  's  this 
her  name  is  ?  " 

"  Lela,  sir." 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure,  Lela.  I  'm  sure  I  've  heard  her  toasted 
often  enousfh  at  cafes  and  restaurants." 


GENOA  DURING  THE   SIEGE.  361 

"There  she  is,  sir,  yonder,  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the 
fountain ;  "  and  the  officer  made  a  sign  with  his  sword  for 
the  gill  to  come  over.  She  made  an  effort  to  arise  at  the 
order,  but  tottered  back,  and  would  have  fallen  if  a  soldier 
had  not  caught  her.  Then  suddenly  collecting  her  strength, 
she  arranged  the  folds  of  her  short  scarlet  jupe,  and  smooth- 
ing down  the  braids  of  her  fail"  hair,  came  forward,  at  that 
sliding,  half-skipping  pace  that  is  the  wont  of  her  craft. 

The  exertion,  and  possibly  the  excitement,  had  flushed  her 
cheek,  so  that  as  she  came  forward  her  look  was  brilliantly 
handsome ;  but  as  the  color  died  away,  and  a  livid  pallor 
spread  over  her  jaws,  lank  and  drawn  in  by  famine,  her 
expression  was  dreadful.  The  large  eyes,  lustrous  and 
wild-looking,  gleamed  with  the  fire  of  fever,  while  her  thin 
nostrils  quivered  at  each  respiration. 

Poor  gii"l  I  even  then,  with  famine  and  fever  eating  within 
her,  the  traits  of  womanly  vanity  still  survived,  and  as  she 
carried  her  hand  to  her  cap  in  salute,  she  made  a  faint  at- 
tempt at  a  smile !    . 

''  The  Twenty-second  may  indeed  be  proud  of  their 
vivandiere,"  said  De  Barre,  gallantly.  "What  hast  in  the 
tonneletj  Lela?  "  continued  he,  tapping  the  little  silver-hooped 
baiTel  she  carried  at  her  back. 

"  Ah,  que  voulez  vous?''  cried  she,  laughing,  with  a  low, 
husky  sound,  —  the  laugh  of  famine. 

"  I  must  have  a  glass  of  it  to  your  health,  ma  belle  Lela, 
if  it  cost  me  a  crown  piece ;  "  and  he  drew  forth  the  coin  as 
he  spoke. 

"  For  such  a  toast  the  liquor  is  quite  good  enough,"  said 
Lela,  drawing  back  at  the  offer  of  money ;  while  slinging  the 
little  cask  in  front,  she  unhooked  a  small  silver  cup,  and 
filled  it  with  water. 

"  No  brandy,  Lela?  " 

"None,  colonel,"  said  she,  shaking  her  head;  "and  if  I 
had,  those  poor  fellows  yonder  would  not  like  it  so  well." 

"  I  understand,"  said  he,  significantly  ;  "  theirs  is  the  thirst 
of  fever." 

A  short,  dry  cough,  and  a  barely  perceptible  nod  of  the 
head,  was  all  her  reply ;  but  their  eyes  met,  and  any  so  sad 
an  expression   as   they   interchanged   I   never   beheld !     It 


362  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

was  a  confession  in  full  of  all  each  had  seen  of  sorrow,  of 
suffering,  and  of  death,  —  the  terrible  events  three  months 
of  famine  had  revealed,  and  all  the  agonies  of  pestilence 
and  madness. 

"  That  is  delicious  water,  Tiernay,"  said  the  colonel,  as  he 
passed  me  the  cup,  and  thus  trying  to  get  away  from  the  sad 
theme  of  his  thoughts. 

"  I  fetch  it  from  a  well  outside  the  walls  every  morning," 
said  Lela;  "  ay,  and  within  gun-shot  of  the  Austrian  sen- 
tries, too." 

"There's  coolness  for  you,  Tiernay,"  said  the  colonel; 
' '  think  what  the  Twenty-second  are  made  of  when  their 
vivandiere  dares  to  do  this !  " 

"They'll  not  astonish  him,"  said  Lela,  looking  steadily 
at  me. 

"  And  why  not,  ma  belle?''  cried  De  Barre. 

"He  was  a  Tapageur,  one  of  the  'Naughty  Ninth,'  as 
they  called  them." 

"How  do  you  know  that,  Lela?  Have  we  ever  met  be- 
fore?" cried  I,  eagerly. 

"I've  seen  you,  sir,"  said  she,  slyly.  "They  used  to 
call  you  the  corporal  that  won  the  battle  of  Kehl.  I  know 
my  father  always  said  so." 

I  would  have  given  worlds  to  have  interrogated  her  fur- 
ther ;  so  fascinating  is  selfishness,  that  already  at  least  a  hun- 
dred questions  were  presenting  themselves  to  my  mind.  Who 
could  Lela  be,  and  who  was  her  father,  and  what  were  these 
reports  about  me  ?  Had  I  really  won  fame  without  knowing 
it,  and  did  my  comrades  indeed  speak  of  me  with  honor? 
All  these,  and  many  more  inquiries,  were  pressing  for 
utterance,  as  General  Massena  walked  up  with  his  staff. 
The  general  fully  corroborated  De  Barrels  opinion  of  the 
Twenty-second.  They  were,  as  he  expressed  it,  a  "magni- 
ficent body."  "  It  was  a  perfect  pleasure  to  see  such  troops 
under  arms."  "  Those  fellows  certainly  exhibited  few  traces 
of  a  stai*\^ed-out  garrison." 

Such  and  such  like  were  the  jesting  observations  ban- 
died from  one  to  the  other,  in  all  the  earnest  seriousness  of 
truth !  What  more  terrible  evidence  of  the  scenes  they  had 
passed  through  than  these  convictions !     What  more  stun- 


GENOA  DURING  THE   SIEGE.  363 

ning  proof  of  the  condition  to  which  long  suffering  had  re- 
duced them ! 

"Where  is  our  pleasant  friend,  who  talked  to  us  of  the 
Black  Forest  last  night  ?  Ah,  there  he  is ;  well.  Monsieur 
Tiernay,  do  you  think  General  Moreau's  people  turned  out 
better  than  that  after  the  retreat  from  Donaueschingen  ?  " 

There  was  no  need  for  any  reply,  since  the  scornful  burst 
of  laughter  of  the  staff  already  gave  the  answer  he  wanted  ; 
and  now  he  walked  forward  to  the  centre  of  the  Piazza, 
while  the  troops  proceeded  to  march  past. 

The  band,  a  miserable  group,  reduced  from  fifty  to  thir- 
teen in  number,  struck  up  a  quick  step,  and  the  troops, 
animated  by  the  sounds,  and  more  still  perhaps  by  Mas- 
sena's  presence,  made  an  effort  to  step  out  in  quick  time ; 
but  the  rocking,  wavering  motion,  the  clinking  muskets  anti 
uncertain  gait,  were  indescribably  painful  to  a  soldier's  eye. 
Their  colonel,  De  Vallence,  however,  evidently  did  not  regard 
them  thus ;  for  as  he  joined  the  staff,  he  received  the  gene- 
ral's compliments  with  all  the  good  faith  and  composure  in 
the  world. 

The  battalions  were  marched  off  to  barracks,  and  the  group 
of  officers  broke  up  to  repau-  to  their  several  quarters.  It 
was  the  hour  of  dinner,  but  it  had  been  many  a  day  since 
that  meal  had  been  heard  of  amongst  them.  A  stray  cafe 
here  and  there  was  open  in  the  city ;  but  a  cup  of  coffee  with- 
out milk,  and  a  small  roll  of  black  bread,  a  horrid  compound 
of  rye  and  cocoa,  was  all  the  refreshment  obtainable,  and 
yet  I  am  bold  to  say  that  a  murmur  or  a  complaint  was 
unheard  against  the  general  or  the  government.  The  heaviest 
reverses,  the  gloomiest  hours  of  ill  fortune,  never  extinguished 
the  hope  that  Genoa  was  to  be  relieved  at  last,  and  that  all 
we  had  to  do  was  to  hold  out  for  the  arrival  of  Bonaparte. 
To  the  extent  of  this  conviction  is  to  be  attributed  the  wide 
disparity  between  the  feeling  displayed  by  the  military  and 
the  townsfolk. 

The  latter,  unsustained  by  hope,  without  one  spark  of 
speculation  to  cheer  their  gloomy  destiny,  starved  and 
sickened  and  died  in  masses.  The  very  requirements  of 
discipline  were  useful  in  averting  the  despondent  vacuity 
which  comes  of  hunojer.     Of  the  san.sfuiue  confidence  of  the 


364  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

soldiery  in  the  coming  of  their  comrades,  I  was  to  witness  a 
strong  illustration  on  the  very  day  of  which  I  have  been 
speaking. 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  ;  the  weather  had 
been  heavy  and  overcast  and  the  heat  excessive,  so  that  all 
who  were  free  from  duty  had  either  lain  down  to  sleep  or 
were  quietly  resting  within  doors,  when  a  certain  stir  and 
movement  in  the  streets,  a  rare  event  during  the  hours  of  the 
siesta,  drew  many  a  head  to  the  windows.  The  report  ran, 
and  like  wildfire  it  spread  through  the  city,  that  the  advanced 
guard  of  Bonaparte  had  reached  Ronco  that  morning,  and 
were  already  in  march  on  Genoa !  Although  nobody  could 
trace  this  story  to  any  dkect  source,  each  believed  and 
repeated  it,  the  tale  growing  more  consistent  and  fuller  at 
every  repetition.  I  need  not  weary  my  reader  with  all  the 
additions  and  corrections  the  narrative  received,  nor  recount 
how  now  it  was  Moreau  with  the  right  wing  of  the  army  of 
the  Rhine,  now  it  was  Kellermann's  brigade,  now  it  was 
Macdonald,  who  had  passed  the  Ticino ;  and  last  of  all, 
Bonaparte.  The  controversy  was  often  even  an  angry  one, 
when,  finally,  all  speculation  was  met  by  the  official  report 
that  all  that  was  known  lay  in  the  simple  fact  that  heavy 
guns  had  been  heard  that  morning  near  Ronco ;  and  as  the 
Austrians  held  no  position  with  artillery  there,  the  firing 
must  needs  be  French. 

This  very  bare  announcement  was,  of  course,  a  great  "  come 
down"  for  all  the  circumstantial  detail  with  which  we  had 
been  amusing  ourselves  and  each  other ;  but  yet  it  nourished 
hope,  and  the  hope  that  was  nearest  to  all  our  hearts,  too. 
The  streets  were  soon  filled ;  officers  and  soldiers  hastily 
dressed,  and  with  many  a  fault  of  costume  were  all  com- 
mingled, exchanging  opinions,  resolving  doubts,  and  even 
bandying  congratulations.  The  starved  and  hungry  faces 
were  lighted  up  with  an  expression  of  savage  glee.  It  was 
like  the  last  flickering  gleam  of  passion  in  men,  whose  whole 
vitality  was  the  energy  of  fever.  The  heavy  debt  the}^  owed 
their  enemy  was  at  last  to  be  paid,  and  all  the  insulting  injury 
of  a  besieged  and  famine-stricken  garrison  to  be  avenged.  A 
surging  movement  in  the  crowd  told  that  some  event  had 
occurred :  it  was  Massena  and  his  staff,  who  were  proceeding 


GENOA   DURING   THE   SIEGE.  365 

to  a  watch-tower  iu  the  bastion,  from  whence  a  wide  range 
of  country  could  be  seen.  This  was  reassuring.  The  general 
himself  entertained  the  story,  and  here  was  proof  that  there 
was  "  something  in  it."  All  the  population  now  made  for  the 
walls ;  every  spot  from  which  the  view  towards  Ronco  could 
be  obtained  was  speedily  crowded,  every  window  filled,  and 
all  the  housetops  crammed.  A  dark  mass  of  inky  cloud 
covered  the  tops  of  the  Apennines,  and  even  descended  to 
some  distance  down  the  sides.  With  what  shapes  and  forms 
of  military  splendor  did  our  imaginations  people  the  space 
behind  that  sombre  curtain  !  What  columns  of  stern  warriors, 
what  prancing  squadrons,  what  earth-shaking  masses  of  heavy 
artillery  !  How  longingly  each  eye  grew  weary  watching,  — 
waiting  for  the  veil  to  be  rent,  and  the  glancing  steel  to  be 
seen  glistening  bright  in  the  sun-rays ! 

As  if  to  torture  our  anxieties,  the  lowering  mass  grew 
darker  and  heavier,  and  rolling  lazily  adown  the  mountain,  it 
filled  up  the  valley,  wrapping  earth  and  sky  in  one  murky 
mantle. 

"There!  did  you  hear  that?"  cried  one;  "that  was 
artillery." 

A  pause  followed,  each  ear  was  bent  to  listen,  and  not  a 
word  was  uttered  for  full  a  minute  or  more ;  the  immense 
host,  as  if  swayed  by  the  one  impulse,  strained  to  catch  the 
sounds,  when  suddenly,  from  the  direction  of  the  mountain 
top,  there  came  a  rattling,  crashing  noise,  followed  by  the 
dull,  deep  booming  that  every  soldier's  heart  responds  to. 
What  a  cheer  then  burst  forth  !  Never  did  I  hear  —  never 
may  I  hear  —  such  a  cry  as  that  was  ;  it  was  like  the  wild  yell 
of  a  shipwrecked  crew,  as  some  distant  sail  hove  in  sight ;  and 
yet,  through  its  cadence,  there  rang  the  mad  lust  for  ven- 
geance !  Yes,  in  all  the  agonies  of  sinking  strength,  with  fever 
in  their  hearts,  and  the  death  sweat  on  their  cheeks,  their  cry 
was  Blood !  The  puny  shout,  for  such  it  seemed  now,  was 
drowned  in  the  deafening  crash  that  now  was  heard ;  peal 
after  peal  shook  the  air,  the  same  rattling,  peppering  noise  of 
musketry  continuing  through  all. 

That  the  French  were  in  strong  force,  as  well  as  the  enemy, 
there  could  now  be  no  doubt.  Nothing  but  a  serious  affair 
and  a  stubborn  resistance  could  warrant  such  a  fire.     It  had 


366  MAURICE  TEERNAY. 

every  semblance  of  an  attack  with  all  arms.  The  roar  of  the 
heavy  guns  made  the  ah*  vibrate,  and  the  clatter  of  small 
arms  was  incessant.  How  each  of  us  filled  up  the  picture 
from  the  impulses  of  his  own  fancy !  Some  said  that  the 
French  were  still  behind  the  mountain,  and  storming  the 
heights  of  the  Borghetto ;  others  thought  that  they  had 
gained  the  summit,  but  not  en  force,  and  were  only  contesting 
their  position  there ;  and  a  few,  more  sanguine,  of  whom  I 
was  one  myself,  imagined  that  they  were  driving  the  Austri- 
ans  down  the  Apennines,  cleaving  then-  ranks,  as  they  went, 
with  their  artillery. 

Each  new  crash,  every  momentary  change  of  dkection  of 
the  sounds,  favored  this  opinion  or  that,  and  the  excitement 
of  partisanship  rose  to  an  immense  height.  What  added 
indescribably  to  the  interest  of  the  scene  was  a  group  of 
Austrian  officers  on  horseback,  who  in  their  eagerness  to 
obtain  tidings  had  ridden  beyond  their  lines,  and  were  now 
standing  almost  within  musket  range  of  us.  We  could  see 
that  then-  telescopes  were  turned  to  the  eventful  spot,  and  we 
gloried  to  think  of  the  effect  the  scene  must  have  been  pro- 
ducing on  them. 

"  They  've  seen  enough  !  "  cried  one  of  our  fellows,  laugh- 
ing, while  he  pointed  to  the  horsemen,  who,  suddenty  wheel- 
ing about,  galloped  back  to  their  camp  at  full  speed. 

' '  You  '11  have  the  drums  beat  to  arms  now  ;  there 's  little 
time  to  lose.  Om'  cuirassiers  will  soon  be  upon  them,"  cried 
another  in  ecstasy. 

"  No,  but  the  rain  will,  and  upon  us,  too,"  said  Giorgio, 
who  had  now  come  up.  "  Don't  you  see  that  it 's  not  a  battle 
yonder,  it's  a  borasco.  There  it  comes."  And  as  if  the  out- 
stretched finger  of  the  dwarf  had  been  the  wand  of  a  magi- 
cian, the  great  cloud  was  suddenly  torn  open  with  a  crash, 
and  the  rain  descended  like  a  deluge,  swept  along  b}^  a  hurri- 
cane wind,  coming  in  vast  sheets  of  water,  while  high  over 
our  heads,  and  moving  onward  towards  the  sea,  growled  the 
distant  thunder.  The  great  mountain  was  now  visible  from 
base  to  summit,  but  not  a  soldier,  not  a  gun,  to  be  seen ! 
Swollen  and  yellow,  the  gushing  torrents  leaped  madly  from 
crag  to  crag,  and  crashing  trees  and  falling  rocks  added  their 
wild  sounds  to  the  tumult. 


GENOA  DURING   THE   SIEGE.  367 

There  we  stood,  mute  and  sorrow-struck,  regardless  of  the 
seething  rain,  unconscious  of  anything  save  oui*  disappoint- 
ment. The  hope  we  built  upon  had  left  us,  and  the  dreary 
scene  of  storm  around  seemed  but  a  type  of  oui'  own  future ! 
And  yet  we  could  not  tui-n  away,  but  with  eyes  strained  and 
aching,  gazed  at  the  spot  from  where  our  succor  should  have 
come. 

I  looked  up  at  the  watch-tower,  and  there  was  Massena 
still,  his  arms  folded  on  a  battlement ;  he  seemed  to  be  deep 
in  thought.  At  last  he  arose,  and  drawing  his  cloak  across 
his  face,  descended  the  winding-stair  outside  the  tower.  His 
step  was  slow,  and  more  than  once  he  halted  as  if  to  think. 
When  he  reached  the  walls,  he  walked  rapidly  on,  his  suite 
following  him. 

"  Ah,  Monsieur  Tiernay,"  said  he,  as  he  passed  me,  "  you 
know  what  an  Apennine  storm  is  now ;  but  it  will  cool  the 
air,  and  give  us  delicious  weather ;  "  and  so  he  passed  on  with 
an  easy  smile. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 


MONTE    DI    FACCIO. 


The  disappointment  we  had  suffered  was  not  the  only  cir- 
cumstance adverse  to  our  expedition.  The  rain  had  now 
swollen  the  smallest  rivulets  to  the  size  of  toiTents  ;  in  many 
places  the  paths  would  be  torn  away  and  obliterated,  and 
everywhere  the  difficulty  of  a  night  march  enormously  in- 
creased. Giorgio,  however,  who  was  perhaps  afraid  of  for- 
feiting his  reward,  assured  the  general  that  these  mountain 
streams  subside  even  more  rapidly  than  they  rise ;  that  such 
was  the  dryness  of  the  soil  no  trace  of  rain  would  be  seen  by 
sunset,  and  that  we  should  have  a  calm,  staiTy  night,  —  the 
very  thing  we  wanted  for  our  enterprise. 

We  did  not  need  persuasion  to  believe  all  he  said ;  the 
opinion  chimed  in  with  our  own  wishes,  and,  better  still,  was 
verified  to  the  very  letter  by  a  glorious  afternoon.  Land- 
ward, the  spectacle  was  perfectly  enchanting ;  the  varied 
foliage  of  the  Apennines,  refreshed  by  the  rain,  glittered  and 
shone  in  the  sun's  ra3^s,  while  in  the  bay  the  fleet,  with  sails 
hung  out  to  dry,  presented  a  grand  and  an  imposing  sight. 
Better  than  all,  Monte  Faccio  now  appeared  quite  near  us ; 
we  could  even  with  the  naked  eye  perceive  all  the  defences, 
and  were  able  to  detect  a  party  of  soldiers  at  work  outside 
the  walls,  clearing,  as  it  seemed,  some  watercourse  that  had 
been  impeded  by  the  storm.  Unimportant  as  the  labor  was, 
we  watched  it  anxiously,  for  we  thought  that  perhaps  before 
anotl^er  sunset  many  a  brave  fellow's  blood  might  dye  that 
earth.  During  the  whole  of  that  day,  from  some  cause  or 
other,  not  a  shot  had  been  fired  either  from  the  land-batteries 
or  the  fleet ;  and  as  though  a  truce  had  been  agreed  to,  we 
sat  watching  each  other's  movements  peacefully  and  calmly. 

"  The  Austrians  would  seem  to  have  been  as  much  deceived 
as  ourselves,  sir,"  said  an  old  artillery  sergeant  to  me,  as  I 
strolled  along  the  walls  at  nightfall.     "  The  pickets  last  night 


MONTE   DI  FACCIO.  369 

were  close  to  the  glacis ;  but  see,  now  they  have  fallen  back 
a  gun-shot  or  more." 

'"  But  they  have  had  thne  enough  since  to  resume  their  old 
position,"  said  I,  half  doubting  the  accuracy  of  the  surmise. 

"Time  enough,  parbleu!  I  should  think  so  too!  but 
when  the  white-coats  mananivre,  they  write  to  Vienna  to  ask, 
'  What 's  to  be  done  next?  '  " 

This  passing  remark,  in  which  with  all  its  exaggeration 
there  lay  a  germ  of  truth,  was  the  universal  judgment  of  our 
soldiers  on  those  of  the  imperial  army  ;  and  to  the  prevalence 
of  the  notion  may  be  ascribed  much  of  that  fearless  indiffer- 
ence with  which  small  divisions  of  ours  attacked  whole  army 
corps  of  the  enem}^  Bonaparte  was  the  first  to  point  out 
this  slowness,  and  to  turn  it  to  the  best  advantage. 

"  If  our  general  ever  intended  a  sortie,  this  would  be  the 
night  for  it,  sir,"  resumed  he  ;  "  the  noise  of  those  mountain 
streams  would  mask  the  sounds  of  a  march,  and  even  cavalry, 
if  led  with  caution,  might  be  in  upon  them  before  they  were 
aware." 

This  speech  pleased  me,  not  only  for  the  judgment  it  con- 
veyed, but  as  an  assurance  that  our  expedition  was  still  a 
secret  in  the  garrison. 

On  questioning  the  sergeant  further,  I  was  struck  to  find 
that  he  had  abandoned  utterly  all  hope  of  ever  seeing  France 
again ;  such  he  told  me  was  the  universal  feeling  of  the 
soldiery.  "  We  know  well,  su',  that  Massena  is  not  the  man 
to  capitulate,  and  we  cannot  expect  to  be  relieved."  And 
yet  with  this  stern,  comfortless  conviction  on  their  minds, 
with  hunger  and  famine  and  pestilence  on  every  side,  they 
never  uttered  one  word  of  complaint,  not  even  a  murmur  of 
remonstrance.  What  would  Moreau's  fellows  say  of  us? 
What  would  the  army  of  the  Meuse  think  ?  These  were  the 
ever-present  arguments  against  surrender ;  and  the  judgment 
of  their  comrades  was  far  more  terrible  to  them  than  the 
grape-shot  of  the  enemy. 

"  But  do  you  not  think,  when  Bonaparte  crosses  the  Alps, 
he  will  hasten  to  our  relief?" 

"  Not  he,  sir !  I  know  him  well.  I  was  in  the  same  troop 
with  him,  a  bombardier  at  the  same  gun.  Bonaparte  will 
never  go  after  small  game  where  there  's  a  nobler  prey  before 
him.     If  he  does  cross  the  Alps,  he  '11  be  for  a  great  battle 

24 


370  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

under  Milan ;  or,  mayhap,  'march  on  Venice.  He 's  not 
thinking  of  our  starved  battalions  here ;  he 's  planning  some 
great  campaign,  depend  on  it.  He  never  faced  the  Alps  to 
succor  Genoa." 

How  true  was  this  appreciation  of  the  great  general's 
ambition  I  need  scarcely  repeat ;  but  so  it  was  at  the  time. 
Many  were  able  to  guess  the  bold  aspirings  of  one  who,  to 
the  nation,  seemed  merely  one  among  the  numerous  candi- 
dates for  fame  and  honors. 

It  was  about  an  hour  after  my  conversation  with  the  ser- 
geant that  an  orderly  came  to  summon  me  to  Colonel  de 
Barre's  quarters ;  and  with  all  my  haste  to  obey,  I  only 
arrived  as  the  column  was  formed.  The  plan  of  attack  was 
simple  enough.  Three  Voltigeur  companies  were  to  attempt 
the  assault  of  the  Monte  Faccio,  under  De  Barre ;  while,  to 
engage  attention  and  draw  off  the  enemy's  force,  a  strong 
body  of  infantry  and  cavalry  was  to  debouch  on  the  Chiavari 
road,  as  though  to  force  a  passage  in  that  direction.  In  all 
that  regarded  secrecy  and  despatch  our  expedition  was  per- 
fect ;  and  as  we  moved  silently  through  the  streets,  the  sleep- 
ing citizens  never  knew  of  our  march.  Arrived  at  the  gate, 
the  column  halted  to  give  us  time  to  pass  along  the  walls 
and  descend  the  glen,  —  an  operation  which,  it  was  estimated, 
would  take  forty-five  minutes  ;  at  the  expiration  of  this  they 
were  to  issue  forth  to  the  feint  attack. 

At  a  quick  step  we  now  pressed  forward  towards  the  angle 
of  the  bastion,  whence  many  a  path  led  down  the  cliff  in  all 
directions.  Half  a  dozen  of  our  men,  well  acquainted  with 
the  spot,  volunteered  as  guides  ;  and  the  muskets  being  slung 
on  the  back,  the  word  was  given  to  "  move  on,"  the  rallying- 
place  being  the  plateau  of  the  orange-trees  I  have  already 
mentioned. 

"  Steep  enough  this,"  said  De  Barre  to  me,  as,  holding  on 
by  briars  and  brambles,  we  slowly  descended  the  gorge ; 
"but  few  of  us  will  ever  climb  it  again." 

"  You  think  so?  "  asked  I,  in  some  surprise. 

"  Of  course,  I  know  it,"  said  he.  "  Vallence,  who  com- 
mands the  battalions  below,  always  condemned  the  scheme ; 
rely  on  it,  he 's  not  the  man  to  make  himself  out  a  false 
prophet.  I  don't  pretend  to  tell  you  that  in  our  days  of 
monarchy  there  were  neither  jealousies  nor  party  grudges, 


MONTE  DI  FACCIO.  371 

and  that  men  were  above  all  small  and  ungenerous  rivalry ; 
but,  assui-edly,  we  had  less  of  them  than  now.  If  the  field 
of  competition  is  more  open  to  every  one,  so  are  the  arts  by 
which  success  is  won ;  a  pre-eminence  in  a  republic  means 
always  the  ruin  of  a  rival.  If  we  fail,  as  fail  we  must,  he  '11 
be  a  general." 

"  But  why  must  we  fail?  " 

''For  every  reason:  we  are  not  in  force;  we  know  noth- 
ing of  what  we  are  about  to  attack ;  and,  if  repulsed,  have 
no  retreat  behind  us." 

"Then  why  — " 

I  stopped,  for  already  I  saw  the  impropriety  of  my 
question. 

"  Why  did  I  ad\ise  the  attack?"  said  he,  mildly,  taking 
up  my  half -uttered  question.  "  Simply  because  death  out- 
side these  walls  is  quicker  and  more  glorious  than  within 
them.  There  's  scarcely  a  man  who  follows  us  has  not  the 
same  sentiment  in  his  heart.  The  terrible  scenes  of  the 
last  five  weeks  have  driven  our  fellows  to  all  but  mutiny. 
Nothing,  indeed,  maintained  discipline  but  a  kind  of  tigerish 
thirst  for  vengeance,  —  a  hope  that  the  day  of  reckoning 
would  come  round,  and  one  fearful  lesson  teach  these  same 
white-coats  how  dangerous  it  is  to  drive  a  brave  enemy  to 
despair." 

De  Barre  continued  to  talk  in  this  strain  as  we  descended, 
every  remark  he  made  being  uttered  with  all  the  coolness 
of  one  who  talked  of  a  matter  indifferent  to  him.  At  length 
the  way  became  too  steep  for  much  converse,  and  slipping 
and  scrambling,  we  now  only  interchanged  a  chance  word  as 
we  went.  Although  two  hundred  and  fifty  men  were  around 
and  about  us,  not  a  voice  was  heard ;  and  except  the  occa- 
sional breaking  of  a  branch,  or  the  occasional  fall  of  some 
heavy  stone  into  the  valley,  not  a  sound  was  heard.  At 
length  a  long  shrill  whistle  announced  that  the  first  man  had 
reached  the  bottom,  which,  to  judge  from  the  faintness  of 
the  sound,  appeared  yet  a  considerable  distance  off.  The 
excessive  darkness  increased  the  difficulty  of  the  way,  and 
De  Barre  continued  to  repeat  ' '  that  we  had  certainly  been 
misinformed,  and  that  even  in  daylight  the  descent  would 
take  an  hour." 

It  was  full  half  an  hour  after  this  when  we  came  to  a  small 


372  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

rivulet,  the  little  boundary  line  between  the  two  steep  cliffs. 
Here  our  men  were  all  assembled,  refreshing  themselves  with 
the  water,  still  muddy  from  recent  rain,  and  endeavoring  to 
arrange  equipments  and  arms,  damaged  and  misplaced  by 
many  a  fall. 

"We've  taken  an  hour  and  twenty-eight  minutes,"  said 
De  Barre,  as  he  placed  a  fire-fly  on  the  glass  of  his  watch,  to 
see  the  hour.  "Now,  men,  let  us  make  up  for  lost  time. 
En  avant!'' 

'^  En  avantf  was  quickly  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
and  never  was  a  word  more  spirit-stuTing  to  Frenchmen ! 
With  all  the  alacrity  of  men  fresh  and  "  eager  for  the  fray," 
they  began  the  ascent,  and  such  was  the  emulous  ardor  to  be 
first  that  it  assumed  all  the  features  of  a  race. 

A  close  pine-wood  greatly  aided  us  now,  and  in  less  time 
than  we  could  believe  it  possible  we  reached  the  plateau 
appointed  for  our  rendezvous.  This  being  the  last  spot  of 
meeting  before  our  attack  on  the  fort,  the  final  dispositions 
were  here  settled  on,  and  the  orders  for  the  assault  arranged. 
With  da^^light,  the  view  from  this  terrace,  for  such  it  was  in 
reality,  would  have  been  magnificent ;  for  even  now,  in  the 
darkness,  we  could  track  out  the  great  thoroughfares  of 
the  city,  follow  the  windings  of  the  bay  and  harbor,  and,  by 
the  lights  on  board,  detect  the  fleet  as  it  lay  at  anchor.  To 
the  left,  and  for  many  a  mile  as  it  seemed,  were  seen  twink- 
ling the  bivouac  fires  of  the  Austrian  army ;  while  directly 
above  our  heads,  glittering  like  a  red  star,  shone  the  solitary 
gleam  that  marked  out  the  Monte  Faccio. 

I  was  standing  silently  at  De  Barre's  side,  looking  on  this 
sombre  scene  so  full  of  terrible  interest,  when  he  clutched 
my  arm  violently,    and  whispered,  — 

"  Look  yonder !  see,  the  attack  has  begun  !  " 

The  fire  of  the  artillery  had  flashed  as  he  spoke,  and  now. 
with  his  very  words,  the  deafening  roar  of  the  guns  was 
heard  from  below. 

"  I  told  you  he  'd  not  wait  for  us,  Tiernay !  I  told  you  how 
it  would  happen !  "  cried  he ;  then  suddenly  recovering  his 
habitual  composure  of  voice  and  manner,  he  said,  "  Now  for 
our  part,  men  ;    foi-wards  !  " 

And  away  went  the  brave  fellows,  tearing  up  the  steep 
mountain  side  like  an  assault  party  at  a  breach.     Though 


MONTE  DI  FACCIO.  373 

hidden  from  our  view  by  the  darkness  and  the  dense  wood, 
we  could  hear  the  incessant  din  of  large  and  small  arms ;  the 
roll  of  the  drums  summoning  men  to  their  quarters,  and  what 
we  thought  were  the  cheers  of  charging  squadrons. 

Such  was  the  mad  feeling  of  excitement  these  sounds  pro- 
duced that  I  cannot  guess  what  time  elapsed  before  we  found 
ourselves  on  the  crest  of  the  mountain,  and  not  above  three 
hundred  paces  from  the  outworks  of  the  fort.  The  trees  had 
been  cut  away  on  either  side  so  as  to  offer  a  species  of  glacis^ 
and  this  must  be  crossed  under  the  fire  of  the  batteries 
before  an  attack  could  be  commenced.  Fortunately  for  us, 
however,  the  garrison  was  too  confident  of  its  security  to 
dread  a  coup  de  main  from  the  side  of  the  town,  and  had 
placed  all  their  guns  along  the  bastion  towards  Borghetto ; 
and  this  De  Barre  immediately  detected.  A  certain  ''  alert" 
on  the  walls,  however,  and  a  quick  movement  of  lights  here 
and  there,  showed  that  they  had  become  aware  of  the  sortie 
from  the  town,  and  gradually  we  could  see  figure  after  figure 
ascending  the  walls  as  if  to  peer  down  into  the  valley 
beneath. 

"  You  see  what  Vallence  has  done  for  us,"  said  De  Barre, 
bitterly;  "but  for  him  we  should  have  taken  these  fellows 
en  flagrant  del'it^  and  carried  their  walls  before  they  could 
turn  out  a  captain's  guard." 

As  he  spoke,  a  heavy  crashing  sound  was  heard  and  a  wild 
cheer.  Already  our  pioneers  had  gained  the  gate,  and  were 
battering  away  at  it ;  another  party  had  reached  the  walls 
and  thrown  up  thek  rope-ladders,  and  the  attack  was  opened  ! 
In  fact,  Giorgio  had  led  one  division  by  a  path  somewhat 
shorter  than  ours,  and  they  had  begun  the  assault  before  we 
issued  from  the  pine- wood. 

We  now  came  up  at  a  run,  but  under  a  smart  fire  from  the 
walls,  already  fast  crowding  with  men.  Defiling  close 
beneath  the  wall,  we  gained  the  gate  just  as  it  had  fallen 
beneath  the  assaults  of  our  men ;  a  steep  covered  way  led  up 
from  it,  and  along  this  our  fellows  rushed  madly ;  but  sud- 
denly from  the  gloom  a  red  glare  flashed  out,  and  a  terrible 
discharge  of  grape  swept  all  before  it.  "  Lie  down!  "  was 
now  shouted  from  front  to  rear ;  but  even  before  the  order 
could  be  obeyed  another  and  more  fatal  volley  followed. 

Twice  we  attempted  to  storm  the  ascent ;  but  wearied  by 


374  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

the  labor  of  the  mountain  pass,  worn  out  by  fatigue,  and, 
worse  still,  weak  from  actual  starvation,  our  men  faltered ! 
It  was  not  fear,  nor  was  there  anything  akin  to  it ;  for  even 
as  they  fell  under  the  thick  fire  their  shrill  cheers  breathed 
stern  defiance.  They  were  utterly  exhausted,  and  failing 
strength  could  do  no  more  !  De  BaiTe  took  the  lead,  sword 
in  hand,  and  with  one  of  those  wild  appeals  that  soldiers 
never  hear  in  vain,  addressed  them ;  but  the  next  moment 
his  shattered  corpse  was  carried  to  the  rear.  The  scaling 
party,  alike  repulsed,  had  now  defiled  to  our  support;  but 
the  death-dealing  artillery  swept  through  us  without  ceasing. 
Never  was  there  a  spectacle  so  terrible  as  to  see  men  ani- 
mated by  courageous  devotion,  bui'ning  with  glorious  zeal, 
and  yet  powerless  from  very  debility,  actually  dropping  from 
the  weakness  of  famine, —  the  staggering  step,  the  faint  shout, 
the  powerless  charge,  all  showing  the  ravages  of  pestilence 
and  want ! 

Some  sentiment  of  compassion  must  have  engaged  our 
enemies'  sympathy,  for  twice  they  relaxed  then-  fire,  and  only 
resumed  it  as  we  returned  to  the  attack.  One  fearful  dis- 
charge of  grape,  at  pistol  range,  now  seemed  to  have  closed 
the  struggle ;  and  as  the  smoke  cleared  away,  the  earth  was 
seen  crowded  with  dead  and  dying.  The  broken  ranks  no 
longer  showed  discipline ;  men  gathered  in  groups  around 
their  wounded  comrades,  and,  to  all  seeming,  were  indiffer- 
ent to  the  death  that  menaced  them.  Scarcely  an  officer 
sur^dved ;  and  among  the  dead  beside  me  I  recognized 
Giorgio,  who  still  knelt  in  the  attitude  in  which  he  had 
received  his  death-wound. 

I  was  like  one  in  some  terrible  dream,  powerless  and 
terror-stricken,  as  I  stood  thus  amid  the  slaughtered  and  the 
wounded. 

"  You  are  my  prisoner,"  said  a  gruff-looking  old  Croat 
grenadier,  as  he  snatched  my  sword  from  my  hand  by  a 
smart  blow  on  the  wrist ;  and  I  yielded  without  a  word. 

"  Is  it  over?  "  said  I ;  "  is  it  over?  " 

"Yes,  parhleu!  I  think  it  is,"  said  a  comrade,  whose 
cheek  was  hanging  down  from  a  bayonet  wound.  "There 
are  not  twenty  of  us  remaining,  and  they  will  do  very  little 
for  the  service  of  the  '  Great  Republic'  " 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

A    ROYALIST    "  DE    LA   VIEILLE    ROCHE." 

On  a  hot  and  sultry  day  of  June  I  found  myself  seated  in  a 
country  cart,  and  under  the  guard  of  two  mounted  dragoons 
wending  my  way  towards  Kuff stein,  a  Tyrol  fortress,  to 
which  I  was  sentenced  as  a  prisoner.  A  weary  journey  was 
it ;  for,  in  addition  to  my  now  sad  thoughts,  I  had  to  contend 
against  an  attack  of  ague,  which  I  had  just  caught,  and 
which  was  then  raging  like  a  plague  in  the  Austrian  camp. 
One  solitary  reminiscence,  and  that  far  from  a  pleasant  one, 
clings  to  this  period.  We  had  halted  on  the  outskii'ts  of  a 
little  village,  called  Broletto,  for  the  siesta ;  and  there,  in 
a  clump  of  olives,  were  quietly  dozing  away  the  sultry  hours 
when  the  clatter  of  horsemen  awoke  us,  and  on  looking  up 
we  saw  a  cavalry  escort  sweep  past  at  a  gallop.  The  cor- 
poral who  commanded  our  party  hurried  into  the  vilUige  to 
learn  the  news,  and  soon  returned  with  the  tidings  that  "  a 
great  victory  had  been  gained  over  the  French,  commanded 
by  Bonaparte  in  person ;  that  the  army  was  in  full  retreat ; 
and  this  was  the  despatch  an  officer  of  Melas'  staff  was  now 
hastening  to  lay  at  the  feet  of  the  emperor." 

"  I  thought  several  times  this  morning,"  said  the  corporal, 
''  that  I  heard  artillery ;  and  so  it  seems  I  might,  for  we  are 
not  above  twenty  miles  from  where  the  battle  was  fought." 

"  And  how  is  the  place  called?  "  asked  I,  in  a  tone  sceptical 
enough  to  be  offensive. 

"Marengo,"  replied  he;  "mayhap  the  name  will  not 
escape  your  memory." 

How  true  was  the  surmise,  but  in  how  different  a  sense 
from  what  he  uttered  it !  But  so  it  was ;  even  as  late  as  four 
o'clock  the  victory  was  with  the  Austrians.  Three  separate 
envoys  had  left  the  field  with  tidings  of  success ;  and  it  was 
only  late  at  night  that  the  general,  exhausted  by  a  disastrous 


376  MAURICE    TIERXAY. 

day  and  almost  broken-hearted,  could  write  to  tell  his  master 
that  "Italy  was  lost." 

I  have  many  a  temptation  here  to  diverge  from  a  line  that 
I  set  down  for  myself  in  these  memoirs,  and  from  which  as 
yet  I  have  not  wandered,  —  I  mean,  not  to  dwell  upon  events 
wherein  I  was  not  myself  an  actor;  but  I  am  determined 
still  to  adhere  to  my  rule,  and  leaving  that  glorious  event 
behind  me,  plod  wearily  along  my  now  sad  journey. 

Day  after  day  we  journeyed  through  a  country  teeming 
with  abundance,  — vast  plains  of  corn  and  maize,  olives  and 
vines,  everywhere,  on  the  mountains,  the  crags,  the  rocks, 
festooned  over  cliffs,  and  spreading  then'  tangled  networks 
over  cottages ;  and  yet  everj^where  poverty,  misery,  and 
debasement,  ruined  villages,  and  a  half -naked,  starving 
populace  met  the  eye  at  every  turn.  There  was  the  stamp 
of  slavery  on  all,  and  still  more  palpably  was  there  the  stamp 
of  despotism  in  the  aii'  of  their  rulers. 

I  say  this  in  a  sad  spii'it ;  for  within  a  year  from  the  day 
in  which  I  wi'ite  these  lines  I  have  travelled  the  selfsame 
road,  and  with  precisely  the  selfsame  objects  before  me,  — 
changed  in  nothing,  save  what  time  changes,  in  ruin  and 
decay !  There  was  the  dreary  ^illage  as  of  yore ;  the  un- 
glazed  windows  closed  with  some  rotten  boarding,  or  occu- 
pied with  a  face  gaunt  with  famine.  The  listless,  unoccupied 
group  still  sat  or  lay  on  the  steps  before  the  church ;  a  knot 
of  nearly  naked  creatures  sat  card-placing  beside  a  fountain, 
their  unsheathed  knives  alongside  of  them ;  and  lastly,  on 
the  wall  of  the  one  habitation  which  had  the  semblance  of 
decency  about  it,  there  stared  out  the  "  double-headed  eagle," 
the  symbol  of  their  shame  and  their  slavery  !  It  never  can 
be  the  policy  of  a  government  to  retard  the  progress  and 
depress  the  energies  of  a  people  beneath  its  rule.  Why,  then, 
do  we  find  a  whole  nation,  gifted  and  capable  as  this,  so 
backward  in  civilization?  Is  the  fault  with  the  rulers;  or 
are  there,  indeed,  people  whose  very  development  is  the 
obstacle  to  theii'  improvement,  whose  impulses  of  right  and 
wrong  will  submit  to  no  discipline,  and  who  are  incapable 
of  appreciating  true  liberty  ?  This  would  be  a  gloomy  theory  ; 
and  the  very  thought  of  it  suggests  darker  fears  for  a  land  to 
which  my  sympathies  attach  me  more  closely ! 


A  ROYALIST   "DE   LA  VIEILLE   ROCHE."  377 

If  any  spot  can  impress  the  notion  of  impregnability  it  is 
Kuffstein.  Situated  on  an  eminence  of  rock  over  the  Inn, 
three  sides  of  the  base  are  washed  by  that  rapid  river ;  a 
little  village  occupies  the  fourth,  and  from  this  the  supplies 
are  hoisted  up  to  the  garrison  above  by  cranes  and  pulleys, 
the  only  approach  being  by  a  path  wide  enough  for  a  single 
man,  and  far  too  steep  and  difficult  of  access  to  admit  of  his 
carrying  any  burthen  however  light.  All  that  science  and 
skill  could  do  is  added  to  the  natural  strength  of  the  position, 
and  from  every  surface  of  the  vast  rock  itself  the  projecting 
mouths  of  guns  and  mortars  show  resources  of  defence  it 
would  seem  madness  to  attack. 

Three  thousand  men,  under  the  command  of  General 
Urleben,  held  this  fortress  at  the  time  I  speak  of,  and  by 
their  habits  of  discipline  and  vigilance  showed  that  no  over- 
security  would  make  them  neglect  the  charge  of  so  impor- 
tant a  trust.  I  was  the  first  French  prisoner  that  had  ever 
been  confined  within  the  walls,  and  to  the  accident  of  my 
uniform  was  I  indebted  for  this  distinction.  I  have  men- 
tioned that  in  Genoa  the}'^  gave  me  a  staff  officer's  dress  and 
appointments  ;  and  from  this  casual  circumstance  it  was  sup- 
posed that  I  should  know  a  great  deal  of  Massena's  move- 
ments and  intentions,  and  that  by  judicious  management  I 
might  be  induced  to  reveal  it. 

General  Urleben,  who  had  been  brought  up  in  France, 
was  admirably,  calculated  to  have  promoted  such  an  object 
were  it  practicable.  He  possessed  the  most  winning  address 
as  well  as  great  personal  advantages,  and  although  now  past 
the  middle  of  life  was  reputed  one  of  the  handsomest  men 
in  Austria.  He  at  once  invited  me  to  Ms  table  ;  and  having 
provided  me  with  a  delightful  little  chamber,  whence  the 
view  extended  for  miles  along  the  Inn,  he  sent  me  stores  of 
books,  journals,  and  newspapers,  —  French,  English,  and 
German,  —  showing  by  the  very  candor  of  their  tidings  a 
most  flattering  degree  of  confidence  and  trust. 

If  imprisonment  could  ever  be  endurable  with  resigna- 
tion, mine  ought  to  have  been  so.  My  mornings  were  passed 
in  weeding  or  gardening  a  little  plot  of  ground  outside  my 
window,  giving  me  ample  occupation  in  that  way,  and  ren- 
dering  carnations  and  roses  dearer  to   me  through  all   my 


378  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

after-life  than  without  such  associations  they  would  ever 
have  been.  Then  I  used  to  sketch  for  hours,  from  the  walls, 
bird's-eye  views,  prisoner's  glimpses,  of  the  glorious  Tyrol 
scenery  below  us.  Early  in  the  afternoon  came  dinner;  and 
then,  with  the  general's  pleasant  converse,  a  cigar,  and  a 
chess-board,  the  time  wore  smoothly  on  till  nightfall. 

An  occasional  thunder-storm,  grander  and  more  sublime 
than  anything  I  have  ever  seen  elsewhere,  would  now  and 
then  vary  a  life  of  calm  but  not  unpleasant  monotony ;  and 
occasionally,  too,  some  passing  escort,  on  the  way  to  or  from 
Vienna,  would  give  tidings  of  the  war.  But,  except  in  these, 
each  day  was  precisely  like  the  other;  so  that  when  the 
almanac  told  me  it  was  autumn,  I  could  scarcely  believe  a 
single  month  had  glided  over.  I  will  not  attempt  to  conceal 
the  fact  that  the  inglorious  idleness  of  my  life,  this  term  of 
inactivity  at  an  age  when  hope  and  vigor  and  energy  were 
highest  within  me,  was  a  grievous  privation ;  but,  except  in 
these  regrets,  I  could  almost  call  this  time  a  happy  one. 
The  unfortunate  position  in  which  I  started  in  life  gave  me 
little  opportunity,  or  even  inclination,  for  learning.  Except 
the  little  Pere  Michel  had  taught  me,  I  knew  nothing.  I 
need  not  say  that  this  was  but  a  sorry  stock  of  education  even 
at  that  period,  when,  I  must  say,  the  sabre  was  more  in  vogue 
than  the  grammar. 

I  now  set  steadily  about  repairing  this  deficiency.  General 
Urleben  lent  me  all  his  aid,  directing  my  studies,  supplying 
me  with  books,  and  at  times  affording  me  the  still  greater 
assistance  of  his  counsel  and  advice.  To  history  generally, 
but  particularly  that  of  France,  he  made  me  pay  the  deepest 
attention,  and  seemed  never  to  weary  while  impressing  upon 
me  the  grandeur  of  our  former  monarchies  and  the  happiness 
of  France  when  ruled  b}^  her  legitimate  sovereigns. 

I  had  told  him  all  that  I  knew  myself  of  my  birth  and 
family,  and  frequently  would  he  allude  to  the  subject  of  my 
reading  by  saying,  "  the  son  of  an  old  Garde  du  Corps 
needs  no  commentary  when  perusing  such  details  as  these. 
Your  own  instincts  tell  you  how  nobly  these  servants  of  a 
monarchy  bore  themselves,  what  chivalry  lived  at  that  time 
in  men's  hearts,  and  how  generous  and  self-denying  was 
their  loyalty." 


A  KOYALIST   "  DE   LA  VIEILLE   ROCHE."  379 

Such  and  such  like  were  the  expressions  which  dropped 
from  him  from  time  to  time ;  nor  was  their  impression  the 
less  deep  when  supported  by  the  testimony  of  the  memoii's 
with  which  he  supplied  me.  Even  in  deeds  of  military  glory 
the  Monarchy  could  compete  with  the  Republic  ;  and  Urlebeu 
took  care  to  insist  upon  a  fact  I  was  never  unwilling  to  con- 
cede, —  that  the  well-born  were  ever  foremost  in  danger,  no 
matter  whether  the  banner  was  a  white  one  or  a  tricolor. 

"  Le  bon  sang  ne  pent  pas  mentir"  was  an  adage  I  never 
disputed,  although  certainly  I  never  expected  to  hear  it 
employed  to  the  disparagement  of  those  to  whom  it  did  not 
apply. 

As  the  winter  set  in  I  saw  less  of  the  general.  He  was 
usually  much  occupied  in  the  mornings ;  and  at  evenings  he 
was  accustomed  to  go  down  to  the  village,  where  of  late 
some  French  emigre  families  had  settled,  —  unhappy  exiles, 
who  had  both  peril  and  poverty  to  contend  against !  Many 
such  were  scattered  through  the  Tyrol  at  that  period,  both 
for  the  security  and  the  cheapness  it  afforded.  Of  these 
Urleben  rarely  spoke,  — some  chance  allusion,  when  boiTow- 
ing  a  book  or  taking  away  a  newspaper,  being  the  extent  to 
which  he  ever  referred  to  them. 

One  morning,  as  I  sat  sketching  on  the  walls,  he  came  up 
to  me  and  said,  "  Strange  enough,  Tiernay,  last  night  I  was 
looking  at  a  view  of  this  very  scene,  only  taken  from  another 
point  of  sight ;  both  were  correct,  accurate  in  every  detail, 
and  yet  most  dissimilar,  —  what  a  singular  illustration  of 
many  of  our  prejudices  and  opinions !  The  sketch  I  speak 
of  was  made  by  a  young  countrywoman  of  yours,  —  a  highly- 
gifted  lady,  who  little  thought  that  the  accomplishments  of 
her  education  were  one  day  to  be  the  resources  of  her  liveli- 
hood. Even  so,"  said  he,  sighing,  "  a  marquise  of  the  best 
blood  of  France  is  reduced  to  sell  her  drawings !  " 

As  I  expressed  a  wish  to  see  the  sketches  in  question,  he 
volunteered  to  make  the  request  if  I  would  send  some  of 
mine  in  return  ;  and  thus  accidentally  grew  up  a  sort  of  inter- 
course between  myself  and  the  strangers,  which  gradually 
extended  to  books  and  music,  and  lastly  to  civil  messages 
and  inquu'ies,  of  which  the  general  was  ever  the  bearer. 

What  a  boon  was  all  this  to  me !    What  a  sun-ray  through 


380        "  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

the  bars  of  a  prisoner's  cell  was  this  gleam  of  kindness  and 
sympathy !  The  very  similarity  of  our  pursuits,  too,  had 
something  inexpressibly  pleasing  in  it ;  and  I  bestowed  ten 
times  as  much  pains  upon  each  sketch,  now  that  I  knew  to 
whose  eyes  it  would  be  submitted. 

"  Do  you  know,  Tiernay,"  said  the  general  tome,  one  day, 
"  I  am  about  to  incur  a  very  heavy  penalty  in  your  behalf : 
I  am  going  to  contravene  the  strict  orders  of  the  War  Office, 
and  take  you  along  with  me  this  evening  down  to  the 
village." 

I  started  with  surprise  and  delight  together,  and  could  not 
utter  a  word. 

"  I  know  perfectly  well,"  continued  he,  "  that  you  will  not 
abuse  my  confidence.  I  ask,  then,  for  nothing  beyond  your 
word  that  you  will  not  make  any  attempt  at  escape ;  for 
this  visit  may  lead  to  others,  and  I  desire,  so  far  as  possible, 
that  you  should  feel  as  little  constraint  as  a  prisoner  well 
may." 

I  readily  gave  the  pledge  required,  and  he  went  on,  — 

"I  have  no  cautions  to  give  you,  nor  any  counsels. 
Madame  d'Aigreville  is  a  Royalist." 

"She  is  madame,  then!"  said  I,  in  a  voice  of  some 
disappointment. 

"Yes,  she  is  a  widow;  but  her  niece  is  unmarried,"  said 
he,  smiling  at  my  eagerness.  I  affected  to  hear  the  tidings 
with  unconcern,  but  a  burning  flush  covered  my  cheek,  and 
I  felt  as  uncomfortable  as  possible. 

I  dined  that  day  as  usual  with  the  general,  adjourning 
after  dinner  to  the  little  drawing-room,  where  we  played  our 
chess.  Never  did  he  appear  to  me  so  tedious  in  his  stories, 
so  intolerably  tiresome  in  his  digressions,  as  that  evening. 
He  halted  at  every  move ;  he  had  some  narrative  to  recount, 
or  some  obsei-vation  to  make,  that  delayed  our  game  to  an 
enormous  time ;  and  at  last,  on  looking  out  of  the  window, 
he  fancied  there  was  a  thunder-storm  brewing,  and  that  we 
should  do  well  to  put  off  our  visit  to  a  more  favorable 
opportunity. 

"It  is  little  short  of  half  a  league,"  said  he,  "  to  the  vil- 
lage, and  in  bad  weather  is  worse  than  double  the  distance." 

I  did  not  dare  to  controvert  his  opinion,  but  fortunately 


A  ROYALIST   "  DE   LA   VIEILLE   ROCHE."  381 

a  gleam  of  suushiue  shot  the  same  moment  through  the 
window,  and  prochiimed  a  fair  evening. 

Heaven  knows  I  had  suffered  little  of  a  prisoner's  durance, 
—  my  life  had  been  one  of  comparative  freedom  and  ease ; 
and  yet  I  cannot  tell  the  swelling  emotion  of  my  heart  with 
which  I  emerged  from  the  deep  archway  of  the  fortress,  and 
heard  the  bang  of  the  heavy  gate  as  it  closed  behind  me ! 
Steep  as  was  the  path,  I  felt  as  if  I  could  have  bounded  down 
it  without  a  fear !  The  sudden  sense  of  liberty  was  madden- 
ing in  its  excitement ;  and  I  half  suspect  that  had  I  been  on 
horseback  in  that  moment  of  wild  delight,  I  should  have  for- 
gotten all  my  plighted  word  and  parole,  though  I  sincerely 
trust  that  the  madness  would  not  have  endured  beyond  a 
few  minutes.  If  there  be  among  my  readers  one  who  has 
known  imprisonment,  he  will  forgive  this  confession  of  a 
weakness  which  to  others  of  less  experience  will  seem 
unworthy,  perhaps  dishonorable. 

Dorf  Kuftstein  was  a  fair  specimen  of  the  picturesque 
simplicity  of  a  Tyrol  village.  There  were  the  usual  number 
of  houses,  with  carved  galleries  and  quaint  images  in  wood, 
the  shrines  and  altars,  the  little  Platz  for  Sunday  recreation, 
and  the  shady  alley  for  rifle  practice. 

There  were  also  the  trellised  walks  of  vines,  and  the 
orchards,  in  the  midst  of  one  of  which  we  now  approached 
a  long,  low  farmhouse,  whose  galleries  projected  over  the 
river.     This  was  the  abode  of  Madame  d'Aigreville. 

A  peasant  was  cleaning  a  little  mountain  pony,  from  which 
a  side-saddle  had  just  been  removed  as  we  came  up ;  and  he, 
leaving  his  work,  proceeded  to  ask  us  into  the  house,  inform- 
ing us,  as  he  went,  that  the  ladies  had  just  returned  from 
a  long  ramble,  and  would  be  with  us  presently. 

The  drawing-room  into  which  we  were  shown  was  a  perfect 
picture  of  cottage  elegance  ;  all  the  furniture  was  of  polished 
walnut-wood,  and  kept  in  the  very  best  condition.  It  opened 
by  three  spacious  windows  upon  the  terrace  above  the  river, 
and  afforded  a  view  of  mountain  and  valley  for  miles  on 
every  side.  An  easel  was  placed  in  this  gallery,  and  a  small 
sketch  in  oils  of  Kuffstein  was  already  nigh  completed  on  it. 
There  were  books,  too,  in  different  languages,  and,  to  my 
inexpressible  delight,  a  piano! 


382  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

The  reader  will  smile,  perhaps,  at  the  degree  of  pleasure 
objects  so  familiar  and  every-day  called  forth ;  but  let  him 
remember  how  removed  were  all  the  passages  of  my  life  from 
such  civiliziug  influences,  how  little  of  the  world  had  I  seen 
beyond  camps  and  barrack-rooms,  and  how  ignorant  I  was 
of  the  charm  which  a  female  presence  can  diffuse  over  even 
the  very  humblest  abode. 

Before  I  had  well  ceased  to  wonder,  and  to  admu-e  these 
objects,  the  marquise  entered. 

A  tall  and  stately  old  lady,  with  an  air  at  once  haughty 
and  gracious,  received  me  with  a  profound  courtesy,  while 
she  extended  her  hand  to  the  salute  of  the  general.  She  was 
dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and  wore  her  white  hair  in  two 
braids  along  her  face.  The  sound  of  my  native  language, 
with  its  native  accent,  made  me  forget  the  almost  profound 
reserve  of  her  manner,  and  I  was  fast  recovering  from  the 
constraint  her  coldness  imposed  when  her  niece  entered  the 
room.  Mademoiselle,  who  was  at  that  time  about  seven- 
teen, but  looked  older  by  a  year  or  two,  was  the  very  ideal 
of  brunette  beauty ;  she  was  dark-eyed  and  black-haired, 
with  a  mouth  the  most  beautifully  formed ;  her  figure  was 
light,  and  her  foot  a  model  of  shape  and  symmetry.  All 
this  I  saw  in  an  instant,  as  she  came,  half -sliding,  half- 
bounding  to  meet  the  general,  and  then  turning  to  me, 
welcomed  me  with  a  cordial  warmth  very  different  from  the 
reception  of  Madame  la  Marquise. 

Whether  it  was  the  influence  of  her  presence,  whether  it 
was  a  partial  concession  of  the  old  lady's  own,  or  whether 
my  own  awkwardness  was  wearing  off  by  time,  I  cannot 
say,  but  gradually  the  stiffness  of  the  interview  began  to 
diminish.  From  the  scenery  around  us  we  grew  to  talk  of 
the  Tyrol  generally,  then  of  Switzerland,  and  lastly  of 
France.  The  marquise  came  from  Auvergne,  and  was 
justly  proud  of  the  lovely  scenery  of  her  birthplace. 

Calmly  and  tranquilly  as  the  conversation  had  been  carried 
on  up  to  this  period,  the  mention  of  France  seemed  to  break 
down  the  barrier  of  resei'\^e  within  the  old  lady's  mind,  and' 
she  burst  out  in  a  wild  flood  of  reminiscences  of  the  last 
time  she  had  seen  her  native  village.  "The  Blues,"  as  the 
Revolutionary  soldiers  were  called,  had  come  down  upon  the 


A  ROYALIST  "  DE   LA  VIEILLE   ROCHE."  383 

quiet  valley,  carrying  fire  and  carnage  into  a  once  peaceful 
district.  The  chateau  of  her  family  was  razed  to  the  ground  ; 
her  husband  was  shot  upon  his  own  terrace  ;  the  whole  village 
was  put  to  the  sword ;  her  own  escape  was  owing  to  the 
compassion  of  the  gardener's  wife,  who  dressed  her  like  a 
peasant  boy,  and  employed  her  in  a  menial  station,  —  a  con- 
dition she  was  forced  to  continue  so  long  as  the  troops 
remained  in  the  neighborhood.  "  Yes,"  said  she,  drawing 
off  her  silk  mittens,  "  these  hands  still  witness  the  hardships 
I  speak  of.     These  are  the  marks  of  my  servitude." 

It  was  in  vain  the  general  tried  at  first  to  sympathize  with 
her,  and  then  withdraw  her  from  the  theme ;  in  vain  her 
niece  endeavored  to  suggest  another  topic,  or  convey  a  hint 
that  the  subject  might  be  unpleasing  to  me.  It  was  the 
old  lady's  one  absorbing  idea,  and  she  could  not  relinquish 
it.  Whole  volumes  of  the  atrocities  perpetrated  by  the 
Revolutionary  soldiery  came  to  her  recollection  ;  each  moment, 
as  she  talked,  memory  would  recall  this  fact  or  the  other; 
and  so  she  continued  rattling  on  with  the  fervor  of  a 
heated  imagination  and  the  wild  impetuosity  of  a  half- 
crazed  intellect.  As  for  myself,  I  suffered  far  more  from 
witnessing  the  pain  others  felt  for  me  than  from  any  offence 
the  topic  occasioned  me  directly.  These  events  were  all 
"before  my  time."  I  was  neither  a  Blue  by  birth  nor  by 
adoption ;  a  child  during  the  period  of  revolution,  I  had 
only  taken  a  man's  part  when  the  country,  emerging  from 
its  term  of  anarchy  and  blood,  stood  at  bay  against  the 
whole  of  Europe.  These  consolations  were,  however,  not 
known  to  the  others ;  and  it  was  at  last,  in  a  moment  of 
unendurable  agony,  that  mademoiselle  rose  and  left  the  room. 

The  general's  eyes  followed  her  as  she  went,  and  then 
sought  mine  with  an  expression  full  of  deep  meaning.  If  I" 
read  his  look  aright,  it  spoke  patience  and  submission ;  and 
the  lesson  was  an  easier  one  than  he  thought. 

"  They  talk  of  heroism,"  cried  she,  frantically,  —  "it  was 
massacre !  And  when  they  speak  of  chivalry,  they  mean 
the  slaughter  of  women  and  children  !  "  She  looked  round, 
seeing  that  her  niece  had  left  the  room,  suddenly  dropped 
her  voice  to  a  whisper,  and  said,  "  Think  of  her  mother's 
fate,  — dragged  from  her  home,  her  widowed,  desolate  home, 


384  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

and  thi'own  into  the  Temple ;  outraged  and  insulted,  con- 
demned on  a  mock  trial,  and  then  carried  away  to  the 
guillotine !  Ay,  and  even  then,  on  that  spot  which  coming 
death  might  have  sanctified ;  in  that  moment  when  even 
fiendish  vengeance  can  turn  away  and  leave  its  victim  at 
liberty  to  utter  a  last  prayer  in  peace,  —  even  then  these 
wretches  devised  an  anguish  greater  than  all  death  could 
compass.  You  will  scarcely  believe  me,"  said  she,  drawing 
in  her  breath,  and  talking  with  an  almost  convulsive  effort,  — 
' '  you  will  scarcely  believe  me  in  what  I  am  now  about  to 
tell  you ;  but  it  is  the  truth,  the  simple  but  horrible  truth. 
When  my  sister  mounted  the  scaffold  there  was  no  priest  to 
administer  the  last  rites.  It  was  a  time,  indeed,  when  few 
were  left;  their  hallowed  heads  had  fallen  in  thousands 
before  that.  She  waited  for  a  few  minutes,  hoping  that 
one  would  appear ;  and  when  the  mob  learned  the  meaning 
of  her  delay,  they  set  up  a  cry  of  fiendish  laughter ;  and  with 
a  blasphemy  that  makes  one  shudder  to  think  of,  they  pushed 
foi^ard  a  boy,  one  of  those  blood-stained  gamins  of  the 
streets,  and  made  him  gabble  a  mock  litany !  Yes,  it  is 
true,  —  a  horrible  mockery  of  our  service,  in  the  ears  and 
before  the  e^^es  of  that  dying  saint." 

"When,  in  what  year,  in  what  place  was  that?"  cried 
I,  in  an  agony  of  eagerness. 

"  I  can  give  you  both  time  and  place,  sir,"  said  the  mar- 
quise, drawing  herself  proudly  up,  for  she  constraed  my 
question  into  a  doubt  of  her  veracity.  "  It  was  in  the  year 
1793,  in  the  month  of  August;  and  as  for  the  place,  it 
was  one  well  seasoned  to  blood, — the  Place  de  Greve  at 
Paris." 

A  fainting  sickness  came  over  me  as  I  heard  these  words ; 
the  dreadful  truth  flashed  across  me  that  the  victim  was  the 
Marquise  D'Estelles,  and  the  boy,  on  whose  infamy  she 
dwelt  so  strongl}^,  no  other  than  mj^self .  For  the  moment, 
it  was  nothing  to  me  that  she  had  not  identified  me  with 
this  atrocity ;  I  felt  no  consolation  in  the  thought  that  I 
was  unknown  and  unsuspected.  The  heavy  weight  of  the 
indignant  accusation  almost  crushed  me.  Its  falsehood  I 
knew,  and  yet  could  I  dare  to  disprove  it?  Could  I  hazard 
the  consequences  of  an    avowal,   which   all  m}^   subsequent 


A   ROYALIST   "  DE   LA   YIEILLE   ROCHE."  385 

pleadings  could  never  obliterate?  Even  were  my  innocence 
established  in  one  point,  what  a  position  did  it  reduce  me  to 
in  every  other ! 

These  struggles  must  have  manifested  themselves  strongly 
in  my  looks,  for  the  marquise,  with  all  her  self -occupation, 
remarked  how  ill  I  seemed.  ''I  see,  sir,"  cried  she,  "that 
all  the  ravages  of  war  have  not  steeled  your  heart  against 
true  piety ;  my  tale  has  moved  you  strongly."  I  muttered 
something  in  concurrence,  and  she  went  on.  "  Happily  for 
you,  you  were  but  a  child  when  such  scenes  were  happen- 
ing !  Not,  indeed,  that  childhood  was  always  unstained  in 
those  days  of  blood  ;  but  you  were,  as  X  understand,  the  son 
of  a  Garde  du  Corps,  one  of  those  loyal  men  who  sealed 
theii'  devotion  with  theii*  life.     Were  you  in  Paris  then?  " 

"Yes,  Madame,"  said  I,  briefly. 

"  With  youi'  mother,  perhaps?  " 

"  I  was  quite  alone,  Madame  ;  an  orphan  on  both  sides." 

"  What  was  youi'  mother's  family  name?  " 

Here  was  a  puzzle ;  but  at  a  hazard  I  resolved  to  claim  her 
who  should  sound  best  to  the  ears  of  La  Marquise.  "La 
Lasterie,   Madame,"  said  I. 

"La  Lasterie  de  la  Vignoble,  —  a  most  distinguished 
house,  sir.  Provencal,  and  of  the  purest  blood.  Auguste 
de  la  Lasterie  mamed  the  daughter  of  the  Due  de  Mu'ian- 
court,  a  cousin  of  my  husband's ;  and  there  was  another  of 
them  who  went  as  ambassador  to  Madrid." 

I  knew  none  of  them,  and  I  suppose  I  looked  as  much. 

"Your  mother  was,  probably,  of  the  elder  branch,  sir?" 
asked  she. 

I  had  to  stammer  out  a  most  lamentable  confession  of  my 
ignorance. 

"  Xot  know  your  own  kinsfolk,  sir!  not  your  nearest  of 
blood!"  cried  she,  in  amazement.  "General,  have  you 
heard  this  strange  avowal,  or  is  it  possible  that  my  ears  have 
deceived  me  ?  " 

"Please  to  remember,  INIadame,"  said  I,  submissive!}', 
"the  circumstances  in  which  I  passed  my  infancy.  My 
father  fell  by  the    guillotine." 

"  And  his  son  wears  the  uniform  of  those  who  slew 
him !  " 

25 


386  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"  Of  a  French  soldier,  Madame,  proud  of  the  sei-vice  he 
belongs  to ;  glorying  to  be  one  of  the  first  army  in  Europe." 

"An  army  without  a  cause  is  a  banditti,  sir.  Your 
soldiers,   without  loyalty,    are  without  a  banner." 

"  We  have  a  country,  Madame." 

"  I  must  protest  against  this  discussion  going  further," 
said  the  general,  blandly,  while  in  a  lower  tone  he  whispered 
something  in  her  ear. 

"Very  true,  very  true,"  said  she;  "I  had  forgotten  all 
that.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay,  you  will  forgive  me  this  warmth. 
An  old  woman,  who  has  lost  nearly  everything  in  the  world, 
may  have  the  privilege  of  bad  temper  accorded  her.  We 
are  friends  now,  I  hope,"  added  she,  extending  her  hand, 
and,  with  a  smile  of  most  gracious  meaning,  beckoning  to 
me  to  sit  beside  her  on  the  sofa. 

Once  away  from  the  terrible  theme  of  the  Revolution,  she 
conversed  with  much  agreeability ;  and  her  niece  having 
reappeared,  the  conversation  became  animated  and  pleasing. 
Need  I  sa}^  with  what  interest  I  now  regarded  mademoiselle, 

—  the  object  of  all  my  boyish  devotion  ;  the  same  whose  pale 
features  I  had  watched  for  many  an  hour  in  the  dim  half 
light  of  the  little  chapel ;  her  whose  image  was  never  ab- 
sent from  my  thoughts,  waking  or  sleeping,  and  now 
again  appearing  before  me  in  all  the  grace  of  coming 
womanhood ! 

Perhaps  to  obliterate  any  impression  of  her  aunt's  severity, 

—  perhaps  it  was  mere  manner,  —  but  I  thought  there  was  a 
degree  of  anxiety  to  please  in  her  bearing  towards  me.  She 
spoke,  too,  as  though  our  acquaintance  was  to  be  continued 
by  frequent  meetings,  and  dropped  hints  of  plans  that 
implied  constant  intercourse.  Even  excursions  into  the 
neighborhood  she  spoke  of ;  when,  suddenly  stopping,  she 
said,  "  But  these  are  for  the  season  of  spring,  and  before 
that  time  Monsieur  de  Tiernay  will  be   far  away." 

"  Who  can  tell  that?  "  said  I.  "I  would  seem  to  be  for- 
gotten by  my  comrades." 

"  Then  you  must  take  care  to  do  that  which  may  refresh 
their  memory,"  said  she,  pointedly ;  and  before  I  could 
question  her  more  closely  as  to  her  meaning,  the  general 
had  risen  to  take  his  leave. 


A  ROYALIST  "DE  LA   VIEILLE   ROCHE."  387 

"  Madame  la  Marquise  was  somewhat  more  tart  than 
usual,"  said  he  to  me,  as  we  asceuded  the  cliff;  "  but  you 
have  passed  the  ordeal  now,  and  the  chances  are  she  will 
never  offend  you  in  the  same  way  again.  Great  allowances 
must  be  made  for  those  who  have  suffered  as  she  has. 
Family,  fortune,  station,  even  country,  all  lost  to  her ;  and 
even  hope  now  dashed  by  many  a  disappointment." 

Though  puzzled  by  the  last  few  words,  I  made  no  remark 
on  them,  and  he  resumed,  — 

"  She  has  invited  you  to  come  and  see  her  as  often  as  you 
are  at  liberty ;  and,  for  my  part,  you  shall  not  be  restricted 
in  that  way.  Go  and  come  as  you  please,  only  do  not 
infringe  the  hours  of  the  fortress ;  and  if  you  can  concede 
a  little  now  and  then  to  the  prejudices  of  the  old  lady, 
your  intercourse  will  be  all  the  more  agreeable  to  both 
parties." 

"I  believe.  General,  that  I  have  little  of  the  Jacobin  to 
recant,"  said  I,  laughing. 

"  I  should  go  further,  my  dear  friend,  and  say,  none," 
added  he.  "  Yom-  uniform  is  the  only  tint  of  '  blue  '  about 
you."  And  thus  chatting,  we  reached  the  fortress,  and  said 
good-night. 

I  have  been  particular,  perhaps  tiresomely  so,  in  retailing 
these  broken  phrases  and  snatches  of  conversation ;  but  they 
were  the  first  matches  applied  to  a  train  that  was  long  and 
artfully  laid. 


CHAPTER  XXXrX. 

"a  sorrowful  parting." 

The  general  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  I  now  enjoyed  the 
most  unrestricted  liberty ;  in  fact,  the  officers  of  the  garrison 
said  truly  that  they  were  far  more  like  prisoners  than  I  was. 
As  regularly  as  evening  came,  I  descended  the  path  to  the 
village,  and  as  the  bell  tolled  out  the  vespers  I  was  crossing 
the  little  grass-plot  to  the  cottage.  So  regularly  was  I 
looked  for,  that  the  pursuits  of  each  evening  were  resumed  as 
though  only  accidentally  interrupted.  The  unfinished  game 
of  chess,  the  half-read  volume,  the  newly-begun  drawing, 
were  taken  up  where  we  had  left  them,  and  life  seemed  to 
have  centi'ed  itself  in  those  delightful  hours  between  sunset 
and  midnight. 

I  suppose  there  are  few  young  men  who  have  not,  at  some 
time  or  other  of  their  lives,  enjoyed  similar  pri^ileges,  and 
known  the  fascination  of  intimacy  in  some  household  where 
the  affections  became  engaged  as  the  intellect  expanded, 
and,  while  winning  another's  heart,  have  elevated  their  own. 
But  to  know  the  full  charm  of  such  intercourse,  one  must 
have  been  as  I  was  a  prisoner,  an  orphan,  almost  friendless 
in  the  world,  a  very  "  waif"  upon  the  shore  of  destiny.  I 
cannot  express  the  intense  pleasure  these  evenings  afforded 
me.  The  cottage  was  my  home,  and  more  than  my  home ; 
it  was  a  shrine  at  which  my  heart  worshipped,  for  I  was  in 
love !  Easy  as  the  confession  is  to  make  now,  tortures 
would  not  have  wrung  it  from  me  then ! 

In  good  truth,  it  was  long  before  I  knew  it;  nor  can  I 
guess  how  much  longer  the  ignorance  might  have  lasted, 
when  General  Urleben  suddenly  dispelled  the  clouds  by 
informing  me  that  he  had  just  received  from  the  minister- 
of-war  at  Vienna  a  demand  for  the  name,  rank,  and  regi- 


"A   SORROWFUL  PARTING."  389 

ment  of  his  prisoner,  previous  to  tlie  negotiation  for  bis 
exchange. 

"  You  will  fill  up  these  blanks,  Tiernay,"  said  he,  "and 
within  a  month,  or  less,  you  will  be  once  more  free,  and  say 
adieu  to  Kuff stein." 

Had  the  paper  contained  my  dismissal  from  the  senice, 
I  shame  to  own  it  would  have  been  more  welcome !  The  last 
few  months  had  changed  all  the  character  of  my  life,  sug- 
gested new  hopes  and  new  ambitions.  The  career  I  used  to 
glory  in  had  grown  distasteful ;  the  comrades  I  once  longed 
to  rejoin  were  now  become  almost  repulsive  to  ni}'  imagi- 
nation. The  marquise  had  spoken  much  of  emigrating  to 
some  part  of  the  new  world  beyond  seas,  and  thither  my 
fancy  alike  pointed.  Perhaps  m}^  dreams  of  a  future  were 
not  the  less  rose-colored  that  they  received  no  shadow  from 
anything  like  a  ''  fact."  The  old  ladj^'s  geographical  knowl- 
edge was  neither  accurate  nor  extensive,  and  she  contrived 
to  invest  this  land  of  promise  with  old  associations  of  what 
she  once  heard  of  Pondicherry,  with  certain  features  belong- 
ing to  the  United  States.  A  glorious  country  it  would 
indeed  have  been,  which  within  a  month's  voyage  realized 
all  the  delights  of  the  tropics,  with  the  healthful  vigor  of 
the  temporate  zone,  and  where,  without  an  effort  beyond  the 
mere  will,  men  amassed  enormous  fortunes  in  a  year  or  two. 
In  a  calmer  mood  I  might,  indeed  must,  have  been  struck 
with  the  wild  inconsistency  of  the  old  lady's  imaginings, 
and  looked  with  somewhat  of  scepticism  on  the  map  for  that 
spot  of  earth  so  richly  endowed ;  but  now  I  believed  every- 
thing, provided  it  only  ministered  to  my  new  hopes.  Laura 
evidently,  too,  believed  in  the  "  Canaan  "  of  which  at  last 
we  used  to  discourse  as  freely  as  though  we  had  been  there. 
Little  discussions  would,  however,  now  and  then  vary  the 
uniformity  of  this  creed,  and  I  remember  once  feeling  almost 
hurt  at  Laura's  not  agreeing  with  me  about  zebras,  which 
I  assured  her  were  just  as  trainable  as  horses,  but  which 
the  marquise  flatly  refused  ever  to  use  in  any  of  her  carriages. 
These  were  mere  passing  clouds ;  the  regular  atmosphere  of 
our  wishes  was  bright  and  transparent. 

In  the  midst  of  these  delicious  daydreams,  there  came  one 
day  a  number  of  letters  to  the  marquise  by  the  hands  of  a 


390  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

courier  on  his  way  to  Naples.  What  theu'  contents  were 
I  never  knew,  but  the  tidings  seemed  most  joyful ;  for  the 
old  lady  invited  the  general  and  myself  to  dinner,  when  the 
table  was  decked  out  with  white  lilies  on  all  sides,  she 
herself,  and  Laui-a  also,  wearing  them  in  bouquets  on  theii- 
dresses. 

The  occasion  had,  I  could  see,  something  of  a  celebration 
about  it.  M^^sterious  hints  to  cu'cumstances  I  knew  nothing 
of  were  constantly  interchanged,  the  whole  ending  with  a 
solemn  toast  to  the  memory  of  the  "  Saint  and  Martyr ;  "  but 
who  he  was,  or  when  he  lived,  I  knew  not  one  single  fact 
about. 

That  evening  —  I  cannot  readily  forget  it  —  was  the  first 
I  had  ever  an  opportunity  of  being  alone  with  Laura. 
Hitherto  the  marquise  had  always  been  beside  us ;  now  she 
had  all  this  correspondence  to  read  over  with  the  general,  and 
they  both  retired  into  a  little  boudoir  for  the  purpose,  while 
Laura  and  myself  wandered  out  upon  the  terrace,  as  awk- 
ward and  constrained  as  though  our  situation  had  been  the 
most  provoking  thing  possible.  It  was  on  that  same  morn- 
ing I  had  received  the  general's  message  regarding  my 
situation,  and  I  was  burning  with  anxiety  to  tell  it,  and  yet 
knew  not  exactly  how.  Laura,  too,  seemed  full  of  her  own 
thoughts,  and  leaned  pensively  over  the  balustrade  and  gazed 
on  the  stream. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of  so  seriously?"  asked  I,  after 
a  long  pause. 

"Of  long,  long  ago,"  said  she,  sighing,  "when  I  was  a 
little  child.  I  remember  a  little  chapel  like  that  yonder,  only 
that  it  was  not  on  a  rock  over  a  river,  but  stood  in  a  small 
garden ;  and  though  in  a  great  city,  it  was  as  lonely  and 
solitary  as  might  be,  — the  Chapelle  de  St.  Blois." 

"St.  Blois,  Laura  !  "  cried  I ;    "oh,  tell  ine  about  that !  " 

"  Why,  you  surely  never  heard  of  it  before,"  said  she, 
smiling.  "It  was  in  a  remote  quarter  of  Paris,  nigh  the 
outer  Boulevard,  and  known  to  but  a  very  few.  It  had  once 
belonged  to  our  family;  for'  in  olden  times  there  were 
chateaux  and  country  houses  within  that  space,  which  then 
was  part  of  Paris,  and  one  of  our  ancestors  was  buried 
there.     How  well  I  remember  it  all !     The  dim  little  aisle. 


"A   SORROWFUL  PARTING."  391 

supported  on  wooden  pillars ;  the  simple  altar,  with  the 
oakeu  crucifix,  aud  the  calm,  geutle  features  of  the  poor 
cure.'' 

"  Can  you  remember  all  this  so  well?"  asked  I,  eagerly, 
for  the  theme  was  stirring  my  very  heart  of  hearts. 

^'All,  everything,  —  the  straggling,  weed-grown  garden, 
through  which  we  passed  to  our  daily  devotions,  the  congrega- 
tion standing  respectfully  to  let  us  walk  by ;  for  my  mother 
was  still  the  great  Marquise  D'Estelles,  although  my  father 
had  been  executed,  and  our  estates  confiscated.  They  who  had 
known  us  in  our  prosperity  were  as  respectful  and  devoted 
as  ever ;  and  poor  old  Richard,  the  lame  sacristan,  that  used 
to  take  my  mother's  bouquet  from  her  and  lay  it  on  the 
altar,  —  how  everything  stands  out  clear  and  distinct  before 
my  memory !  Nay,  Maurice,  but  I  can  tell  you  more ;  for, 
strangely  enough,  certain  things  merely  trifles  in  themselves 
make  impressions  that  even  great  events  fail  to  do.  There 
was  a  little  boy,  a  child  somewhat  older  than  myself,  that 
used  to  serve  the  mass  with  the  Fere,  and  he  always  came 
to  place  a  footstool  or  a  cushion  for  my  mother.  Poor  little 
fellow,  bashful  and  diffident  he  was,  changing  color  at  every 
minute,  and  trembling  in  every  limb ;  and  when  he  had  done 
his  duty,  and  made  his  little  reverence,  with  his  hands 
crossed  on  his  bosom,  he  used  to  fall  back  into  some  gloomy 
corner  of  the  church,  and  stand  watching  us  with  an  expres- 
sion of  intense  wonder  and  pleasure.  Yes,  I  think  I  see  his 
dark  eyes,  glistening  through  the  gloom,  ever  fixed  on  me ! 
I  am  sure,  Maurice,  that  little  fellow  fancied  he  was  in  love 
with  me." 

"And  why  not,  Laura?  Was  the  thing  so  very  impos- 
sible, was  it  even  so  unlikely?" 

"  Not  that,"  said  she,  archlv  ;  "  but  think  of  a  mere  child, 
—  we  were  both  mere  children, — and  fancy  him,  the  poor 
little  boy,  of  some  humble  house,  perliaps  (of  course  he  must 
have  been  that),  raising  his  eyes  to  the  daughter  of  the  great 
'  Marquise ' !  What  energy  of  character  there  must  have 
been  to  have  suggested  the  feeling!  how  daring  he  was, 
with  all  his  baslif  ulness  !  " 

"  You  never  saw  him  afterwards?  " 

"Never!" 


392  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"  Xever  thought  of  him,  perhaps?  " 

"I'll  not  say  that,"  said  she,  smiling.  "I  have  often 
wondered  to  m3'self  if  that  hardihood  I  speak  of  had  borne 
good  or  evil  fruit.  Had  he  been  daring  or  enterprising  in 
the  right,  or  had  he,  as  the  sad  times  favored,  been  only 
bold  and  impetuous  for  the  wrong  ?  " 

"And  how  have  you  pictured  him  to  j^our  imagination?" 
said  I,  as  if  merely  following  out  a  fanciful  vein  of  thought. 

"  My  fancy  would  like  to  have  conceived  him  a  chivalrous 
adherent  to  our  ancient  royalty,  striving  nobly  in  exile  to 
aid  the. fortunes  of  some  honored  house,  or  daring,  as  many 
brave  men  have  dared,  the  heroic  part  of  La  Vendee.  My 
reason,  however,  tells  me  that  he  was  far  more  likely  to  have 
taken  the  other  part." 

"  To  which  you  will  concede  no  favor,  Laura,  —  not  even 
the  love  of  glory  ?  " 

"  Glory,  like  honor,  should  have  its  fountain  in  a 
monarchy,"  cried  she,  proudly.  "  The  rude-  voices  of  a 
multitude  can  confer  no  meed  of  praise ;  their  judgments 
are  the  impulses  of  the  moment.  But  why  do  we  speak  of 
these  things,  Maurice?  Nor  have  I,  who  can  but  breathe  my 
hopes  for  a  cause,  the  just  pretension  to  contend  with  j^ou 
who  shed  your  blood  for  its  opposite." 

As  she  spoke,  she  hurried  from  the  balcony  and  quitted 
the  room.  It  was  the  first  time,  as  I  have  said,  that  we  had 
ever  been  alone  together,  and  it  was  also  the  first  time  she 
had  ever  expressed  herself  strongly  on  the  subject  of  party. 
What  a  moment  to  have  declared  her  opinions,  and  when 
her  reminiscences,  too,  had  recalled  our  infancy  !  How  often 
was  I  tempted  to  interrupt  that  confession  by  declaring 
myself,  and  how  strongly  was  I  repelled  by  the  thought  that 
the  avowal  might  sever  us  forever!  While  I  was  thus 
deliberating,  the  marquise,  with  the  general,  entered  the 
room,  and  Laura  followed  in  a  few  moments. 

The  supper  that  night  was  a  pleasant  one  to  all  save  me. 
The  rest  were  gay  and  high-spirited.  Allusions,  understood 
by  them  but  not  by  me,  were  caught  up  readily,  and  as 
quickly  responded  to.  Toasts  were  uttered,  and  wishes 
breathed  in  concert;  but  all  was  like  a  dream  to  me.  In- 
deed, my  heart  grew  heavier  at  every  moment.     My  coming 


"A  SORROWFUL  PARTING."  393 

departui-e,  of  which  I  had  not  yet  spoken,  lay  drearily  on 
my  mind,  while  the  bold  decision  with  which  Laura  declared 
her  faith  showed  that  our  destinies  were  separated  by  an 
impassable  barrier. 

It  may  be  supposed  that  my  depression  was  not  relieved 
by  discovering  that  the  general  had  already  announced  my 
approaching  departure ;  and  the  news,  far  from  being  re- 
ceived with  anything  like  regret,  was  made  the  theme  of 
pleasant  allusion  and  even  congratulation.  The  marquise 
repeatedly  assured  me  of  the  delight  the  tidings  gave  her, 
and  Laura  smiled  happil}^  towards  me,  as  if  echoing  the 
sentiment. 

Was  this  the  feeling  I  had  counted  on?  Were  these  the 
evidences  of  an  affection  for  which  I  had  given  my  whole 
heart?  Oh,  how  bitterly  I  reviled  the  frivolous  ingratitude 
of  woman !  how  heavily  I  condemned  their  heartless,  unfeel- 
ing natures !  In  a  few  days,  a  few  hours,  perhaps,  I  shall 
be  as  totally  forgotten  here  as  though  I  had  never  been ;  and 
yet  these  are  the  people  who  parade  their  devotion  to  a  fallen 
monarchy,  and  their  affection  for  an  exiled  house !  I  tried 
to  arm  myself  with  every  prejudice  against  royalism.  I 
thought  of  Sautron  and  his  selfish,  sarcastic  spirit.  I  thought 
of  all  the  stories  I  used  to  hear  of  cowardly  ingratitude  and 
noble  infamy,  and  tried  to  persuade  myself  that  the  blan- 
dishments of  the  well-born  were  but  the  gloss  that  covered 
cruel  and  unfeeling  natures. 

For  very  pride  sake,  I  tried  to  assume  a  manner  cool  and 
unconcerned  as  their  own.  I  affected  to  talk  of  my  depar- 
ture as  a  pleasant  event,  and  even  hinted  at  the  career  that 
Fortune  might  hereafter  open  to  me.  In  this  they  seemed  to 
take  a  deeper  interest  than  I  anticipated,  and  I  could  per- 
ceive that  more  than  once  the  general  exchanged  looks  with 
the  ladies  most  significantly.  I  fear  I  grew  very  impatient 
at  last.  I  grieve  to  think  that  I  fancied  a  lunidred  annoy- 
ances that  were  never  intended  for  me ;  and  when  we  arose 
to  take  leave,  I  made  my  adieux  with  a  cold  and  stately  re- 
serv^e,  intended  to  be  strongly  impressive  and  to  cut  them  to 
the  quick. 

I  heard  very  little  of  what  the  general  said  as  we  ascended 
the  cliff.     I  was  out  of  temper  with  him  and  myself  and  all 


394  MAURICE  TIERXAY. 

the  world,  and  it  was  only  when  he  recalled  my  attention  to 
the  fact,  for  the  third  or  fourth  time,  that  I  learned  how  very 
kindly  he  meant  by  me  in  the  matter  of  my  liberation ;  for 
while  he  had  forwarded  all  my  papers  to  Vienna,  he  was 
quite  willing  to  set  me  at  liberty  on  the  following  da}-,  in  the 
perfect  assm-ance  that  my  exchange  would  be  confirmed. 

' '  You  will  thus  have  a  full  fortnight  at  your  own  disposal, 
Tiernay,"  said  he,  "  since  the  official  answer  cannot  arrive 
from  Vienna  before  that  time,  and  you  need  not  report  j^our- 
self  in  Paris  for  eight  or  ten  days  after." 

Here  was  a  boon  now  thrown  away !  For  my  part,  I 
would  a  thousand  times  rather  have  lingered  on  at  Kuffstein 
than  have  been  free  to  travel  Europe  from  one  end  to  the 
other.  My  outraged  pride,  however,  put  this  out  of  the 
question.  La  Marquise  and  her  niece  had  both  assumed  a 
manner  of  sincere  gratification,  and  I  was  resolved  not  to  be 
behindhand  in  my  show  of  jo3^  I  ought  to  have  known  it, 
said  I  again  and  again,  —  I  ought  to  have  known  it.  These 
antiquated  notions  of  birth  and  blood  can  never  co-exist 
with  any  generous  sentiment ;  these  remnants  of  a  worn-out 
monarchy  can  never  forgive  the  vigorous  energy  that  has 
dethroned  then-  decrepitude  I  I  did  not  dare  to  speculate  on 
what  a  girl  Laura  might  have  been  under  other  auspices ; 
how  nobly  her  ambition  would  have  soared,  what  high-souled 
patriotism  she  could  have  felt,  how  gloriously  she  would 
have  adorned  the  societ}^  of  a  regenerated  nation.  I  thought 
of  her  as  she  was,  and  could  have  hated  myself  for  the 
devotion  with  which  my  heart  regarded  her ! 

I  never  closed  my  eyes  the  entire  night.  I  lay  down  and 
walked  about  alternately,  my  mind  in  a  perfect  fever  of  con- 
flict. Pride,  a  false  pride,  but  not  the  less  strong  for  that, 
alone  sustained  me.  The  general  had  announced  to  me  that 
I  was  free.  Be  it  so ;  I  will  no  longer  be  a  burden  on  his 
hospitality.  La  Marquise  hears  the  tidings  with  pleasm-e. 
Agreed,  then,  —  we  part  without  regret.  Very  valorous 
resolutions  they  were,  but  come  to.  I  must  own,  with  a  ver}^ 
sinking  heart  and  a  very  craven  spirit. 

Instead  of  mj^  full  uniform,  that  morning  I  put  on  half 
dress,  showing  that  I  was  ready  for  the  road, — a  sign.  I 
had  hoped,  would  have  spoken  unutterable  things  to  La 
Marquise  and  Laura. 


"A  SORROWFUL  PARTING."  395 

Immediately  after  breakfast  I  set  out  for  the  cottage. 
All  the  way,  as  I  went,  I  was  drilling  myself  for  the  inter- 
view by  assuming  a  tone  of  the  coolest  and  easiest  indiffer- 
ence. They  shall  have  no  triumph  over  me  in  this  respect, 
muttered  I.  Let  us  see  if  I  cannot  be  as  unconcerned  as 
they  are !  To  such  a  pitch  had  I  carried  my  zeal  for  flip- 
pancy, that  I  resolved  to  ask  them  whether  they  had  any 
commission  I  could  execute  for  them  in  Paris  or  elsewhere. 
The  idea  sti'uck  me  as  excellent,  so  indicative  of  perfect  self- 
possession  and  command.  I  am  sure  I  must  have  rehearsed 
our  interview  at  least  a  dozen  times,  supplying  all  the  stately 
grandeur  of  the  old  lady  and  all  the  quiet  placitude  of  Laura. 

By  the  time  I  reached  the  village  I  was  quite  strong  in  my 
part,  and  as  I  crossed  the  Platz  I  was  eager  to  begin  it. 
This  energetic  spirit,  however,  began  to  waver  a  little  as  I 
entered  the  lawn  before  the  cottage,  and  a  most  uncomfort- 
able throbbing  at  my  side  made  me  stand  for  a  moment  in 
the  porch  before  I  entered.  I  used  always  to  make  my 
appearance  unannounced,  but  now  I  felt  that  it  would  be 
more  dignified  and  distant  were  I  to  summon  a  servant ;  and 
yet  I  could  find  none.  The  household  was  on  a  very  simple 
scale,  and  in  all  likelihood  the  labors  of  the  field  or  the  gar- 
den were  now  employing  them.  I  hesitated  what  to  do ; 
and  after  looking  in  vain  around  the  ' '  cour  "  and  the  stable- 
yard,  I  turned  into  the  garden  to  seek  for  some  one. 

I  had  not  proceeded  many  paces  along  a  little  alley, 
flanked  by  two  close  hedges  of  yew,  when  I  heard  voices, 
and  at  the  same  instant  my  own  name  uttered. 

"  You  told  him  to  use  caution,  Laura  ;  that  we  know  little 
of  this  Tiernay  beyond  his  own  narrative  —  " 

"I  told  him  the  very  reverse,  aunt.  I  said  that  he  was 
the  son  of  a  loyal  Garde  du  Corps,  left  an  orphan  in  infancy, 
and  thrown  by  force  of  events  into  the  sennce  of  the  Repub- 
lic ;  but  that  every  sentiment  he  expressed,  every  ambition 
he  cherished,  and  every  feeling  he  displayed,  was  that  of  a 
gentleman  ;  nay,  further  —  " 

But  I  did  not  wait  for  more,  for,  striking  my  sabre  heavily 
on  the  ground  to  announce  my  coming,  I  walked  hurriedly 
forward  towards  a  small  arbor  where  the  ladies  were  seated 
at  breakfast. 


396  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

I  need  not  stop  to  say  how  completely  all  my  resolves  were 
routed  by  the  few  words  I  had  overheard  from  Laura,  nor 
how  thoroughly  I  recanted  all  my  expressions  concerning 
her.  So  full  was  I  of  joy  and  gratitude,  that  I  hastened  to 
salute  her  before  ever  noticing  the  marquise  or  being  con- 
scious of  her  presence. 

The  old  lad}^,  usually  the  most  exacting  of  all  beings,  took 
my  omission  in  good  part,  and  most  politely  made  room  for 
me  between  herself  and  Laura  at  the  breakfast-table. 

"You  have  come  most  opportunely.  Monsieur  de  Tier- 
na}',"  said  she  ;  "  for  not  only  were  we  just  speaking  of  you, 
but  discussing  whether  or  not  we  might  ask  of  you  a  favor." 

"Does  the  question  admit  of  a  discussion,  Madame?" 
said  I,  bowing. 

"Perhaps  not, — in  ordinary  circumstances,  perhaps  not; 
but  — "  she  hesitated,  seemed  confused,  and  looked  at 
Laura,  who  went  on, — 

"  My  aunt  would  say,  sir,  that  we  may  be  possibly  asking 
too  much,  that  we  may  presume  too  far." 

"  Not  on  my  will  to  sen^e  you,"  I  broke  in,  for  her  looks 
said  much  more  than  her  words. 

"  The  matter  is  this,  sir,"  said  the  aunt :  "we  have  a  very 
valued  relative  —  " 

"  Friend,"  interposed  Laura,  —  "  friend,  aunt." 

"We  will  say  friend,  then,"  resumed  she.  "A  friend  in 
whose  welfare  we  are  deeply  interested,  and  whose  regard 
for  us  is  not  less  powerful,  has  been  for  some  years  back 
separated  from  us  by  the  force  of  those  unhappy  circum- 
stances which  have  made  so  many  of  us  exiles.  No  means 
have  existed  of  communicating  with  each  other,  nor  of  in- 
terchanging those  hopes  or  fears  for  our  country's  welfare 
which  are  so  near  to  every  French  heart,  —  he  in  Germany, 
we  in  the  wild  Tyrol,  one-half  the  world  apart,  and  dare  not 
trust  to  a  correspondence  the  utterance  of  those  sympathies 
which  have  brought  so  many  to  the  scaffold !  " 

"  We  would  ask  of  you  to  see  him.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay, 
to  know  him,"  burst  out  Laura;  "  to  tell  him  all  that  you 
can  of  France,  —  above  all,  of  the  sentiments  of  the  army ; 
he  is  a  soldier  himself,  and  will  hear  you  with  pleasure." 

"  You    may    speak    freely   and    frankly,"    continued    the 


"A  SORROWFUL  PARTING."  397 

marquise;  "  the  count  is  man  of  thie  world  enough  to  hear 
the  truth  even  when  it  gives  pain.  Your  own  career  will 
interest  him  deeply ;  heroism  has  always  had  a  charm  for  all 
his  house.  This  letter  will  introduce  you  ;  and  as  the  general 
informs  us  you  have  some  days  at  your  own  disposal,  pray 
give  them  to  our  sersdce  in  this  cause." 

"Willingly,  Madame,"  replied  I ;  "  only  let  me  understand 
a  little  better  —  " 

"There  is  no  need  to  know  more,"  interrupted  Laura; 
"  the  Count  de  Marsanne  will  himself  suggest  everything  of 
which  you  will  talk.  He  will  speak  of  us,  perhaps,  —  of  the 
Tyrol,  of  Kuffstein ;  then  he  will  lead  the  conversation  to 
France  ;  in  fact,  once  acquainted,  you  will  follow  the  dictates 
of  your  own  fancy." 

"  Just  so.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay ;  it  will  be  a  visit  with  as 
little  of  ceremony  as  possible  —  " 

"Aunt!"  interrupted  Laura,  as  if  recalling  the  marquise 
to  caution ;  and  the  old  lady  at  once  acknowledged  the  hint 
by  a  significant  look. 

I  see  it  all,  thought  I.  De  Marsanne  is  Laura's  accepted 
lover,  and  I  am  the  person  to  be  employed  as  go-between. 
This  was  intolerable,  and  when  the  thought  first  struck  me, 
I  was  out  of  myself  with  passion. 

' '  Are  we  asking  too  great  a  favor.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay  ?  " 
said  the  marquise,  whose  eyes  were  fixed  upon  me  during 
this  conflict. 

"  Of  course  not,  Madame,"  said  I,  in  an  accent  of  almost 
sarcastic  tone.  "  If  I  am  not  wrong  in  my  impressions,  the 
cause  might  claim  a  deeper  devotion ;  but  this  is  a  theme  I 
would  not  wish  to  enter  upon." 

"We  are  aware  of  that,"  said  Laura,  quickly;  "we  are 
quite  prepared  for  your  reserv^e,  which  is  perfectly  proper 
and  becoming." 

"  Your  position  being  one  of  unusual  delicacy,"  chimed  in 
the  marquise. 

I  bowed  haughtily  and  coldly,  while  the  marquise  uttered 
a  thousand  expressions  of  gratitude  and  regard  to  me. 

"  We  had  hoped  to  have  seen  you  here  a  few  days  longer. 
Monsieur,"  said  she,  "  but  perhaps,  under  the  circumstances, 
it  is  better  as  it  is." 


398  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

"Under  the  circumstances,  Madame,"  repeated  I,  "  I  am 
bound  to  agree  with  you ;  "  and  I  turned  to  say  farewell. 

"Rather,  mi  revoir^  Monsieur  de  Tiernay,"  said  the  mar- 
quise; "  friendship,  such  as  ours,  should  at  least  be  hopeful; 
say  then  au  revolr."  • 

"  Perhaps  Monsieur  de  Tiernay's  hopes  run  not  in  the 
same  channel  as  our  own,  aunt,"  said  Laura;  "  and  perhaps 
the  days  of  happiness  that  we  look  forward  to  would  bring 
far  different  feelings  to  his  heart." 

This  was  too  pointed,  this  was  insupportably  offensive ; 
and  I  was  only  able  to  mutter,  "  You  are  right.  Mademoi- 
selle ;  "  and  then,  addressing  myself- to  the  marquise,  I  made 
some  blundering  apologies  about  haste  and  so  forth, 
while  I  promised  to  fulfil  her  commission  faithfully  and 
promptly. 

"  Shall  we  not  hear  from  you?"  said  the  old  lady,  as  she 
gave  me  her  hand.  I  was  about  to  say,  "  Under  the  cu'cum- 
stances,  better  not ;  "  but  I  hesitated,  and  Laura,  seeing  my 
confusion,  said,  — 

"  It  might  be  unfair,  aunt,  to  expect  it;  remember  how  he 
is  placed." 

"  Mademoiselle  is  a  miracle  of  forethought  and  candor 
too,"  said  I.  "Adieu!  adieu  forever!"  The  last  word  I 
uttered  in  a  low  whisper. 

"  Adieu,  Maurice,"  she  said,  equally  low,  and  then  turned 
away  towards  the  window. 

From  that  moment  until  the  instant  when,  out  of  breath 
and  exhausted,  I  halted  for  a  few  seconds  on  the  crag  below 
the  fortress,  I  knew  nothing ;  my  brain  was  in  a  whui 
of  mad,  conflicting  thought.  Every  passion  was  working 
within  me ;  and  rage,  jealousy,  love,  and  revenge  were  alter- 
nately swaying  and  controlling  me.  Then,  however,  as  I 
looked  down  for  the  last  time  on  the  village  and  the  cottage 
beside  the  river,  my  heart  softened,  and  I  burst  into  a  torrent 
of  tears.  "  There,"  said  I,  as  I  arose  to  resume  my  way, 
"  there !  one  illusion  is  dissipated ;  let  me  take  care  that  life 
never  shall  renew  the  affliction!  Henceforth  I  will  be  a 
soldier,  and  only  a  soldier." 


CHAPTER  XL. 

"  THE    CHATEAU    OF    ETTENHEIM." 

I  NOW  come  to  an  incident  in  my  life  which,  however  briefly  I 
may  speak,  has  left  the  deepest  impression  on  my  memory. 
I  have  told  the  reader  how  I  left  Kuffstein  fully  satisfied  that 
the  Count  de  Marsanne  was  Laura's  lover ;  and  that  in  keep- 
ing my  promise  to  see  and  speak  with  him,  I  was  about  to 
furnish  an  instance  of  self-denial  and  fidelity  that  nothing  in 
ancient  or  modern  days  could  compete  with. 

The  letter  was  addressed,  "  The  Count  Louis  de  Marsanne, 
Chateau  d'Ettenheim,  a  Bade,"  and  thither  I  accordingly 
repaired,  travelling  over  the  Arlberg  to  Bregenz,  and  across 
the  Lake  of  Constance  to  Freyburg,  —  my  passport  contain- 
ing a  very  few  words  in  cypher,  which  always  suflflced  to 
afford  me  free  transit  and  every  attention  from  the  authori- 
ties. I  had  left  the  southern  Tyrol  in  the  outburst  of  a 
glorious  spring,  but  as  I  journeyed  northward  I  found  the 
rivers  frozen,  the  roads  encumbered  with  snow,  and  the  fields 
untilled  and  dreary-looking.  Like  all  countries  which  derive 
their  charms  from  the  elements  of  rural  beauty,  foliage,  and 
verdure,  G-ermany  offers  a  sad-colored  picture  to  the  traveller 
in  winter  or  wintry  weather. 

It  was  thus,  then,  that  the  Grand  Duchy,  so  celebrated  for 
its  picturesque  beauty,  strack  me  as  a  scene  of  dreary  and 
desolate  wildness,  an  impression  which  continued  to  increase 
with  every  mile  I  travelled  from  the  high  road.  A  long 
unbroken  flat,  intersected  here  and  there  by  stunted  willows, 
traversed  by  a  narrow  earth  road,  lay  between  the  Rhine 
and  the  Taunus  Mountains,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  the 
village  of  Ettenheim.  Outside  the  village,  about  half  a 
mile  off,  and  on  the  border  of  a  vast  pine-forest,  stood  the 
Chateau. 


400  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

It  was  originally  a  hunting-seat  of  the  Dukes  of  Baden, 
but  from  neglect  and  disuse  gradually  fell  into  ruin,  from 
which  it  was  reclaimed,  imperfectly  enough,  a  year  before, 
and  now  exhibited  some  remnants  of  its  former  taste  along 
with  the  evidences  of  a  far  less  decorative  spirit,  —  the  lower 
rooms  being  arranged  as  a  stable,  while  the  stair  and  entrance 
to  the  first  story  opened  from  a  roomy  coach-house.  Here 
some  four  or  five  conveyances  of  rude  construction  were 
gathered  together,  splashed  and  unwashed,  as  if  from  recent 
use ;  and  at  a  small  stove  in  a  corner  was  seated  a  peasant 
in  a  blue  frock,  smoking  as  he  affected  to  clean  a  bridle  which 
he  held  before  him. 

Without  rising  from  his  seat  he  saluted  me,  with  true 
German  phlegm,  and  gave  me  the  "  Guten  Tag,"  with  all 
the  grave  unconcern  of  a  Badener.  I  asked  if  the  Count 
de  Marsanne  lived  there.  He  said  yes,  but  the  "  graf " 
was  out  hunting.  When  would  he  be  back?  By  nightfall. 
Could  I  remain  there  till  his  return  was  my  next  ques- 
tion ;  and  he  stared  at  me  as  I  put  it,  with  some  surprise. 
"  Warum  nicht?"  ("Why  not?")  was  at  last  his  senten- 
tious answer,  as  he  made  way  for  me  beside  the  stove.  I  saw 
at  once  that  my  appearance  had  evidently  not  entitled  me  to 
any  peculiar  degree  of  deference  or  respect,  and  that  the  man 
regarded  me  as  his  equal.  It  was  true  I  had  come  some 
miles  on  foot,  and  with  a  knapsack  on  my  shoulder,  so  that 
the  peasant  was  fully  warranted  in  his  reception  of  me.  I 
accordingly  seated  mj^self  at  his  side,  and  lighting  my  pipe 
from  his,  proceeded  to  derive  all  the  profit  I  could  from 
drawing  him  into  conversation.  I  might  have  spared  myself 
the  trouble.  Whether  the  source  lay  in  stupidity  or  sharp- 
ness, he  evaded  me  on  every  point.  Xot  a  single  particle  of 
information  could  I  obtain  about  the  count,  his  habits,  or  his 
history.  He  would  not  even  tell  me  how  long  he  had  resided 
there,  nor  whence  he  had  come.  He  liked  hunting,  and  so 
did  the  other  "  herren."  There  was  the  whole  I  could  scan  ; 
and  to  the  simple  fact  that  there  were  others  with  him,  did  I 
find  myself  limited. 

Curious  to  see  something  of  the  count's  "  interior,"  I 
hinted  to  my  companion  that  I  had  come  on  purpose  to  visit 
his  master,  and  suggested  the  propriety  of  my  awaiting  his 


"THE   CHATEAU  OF  ETTENHEIM."  401 

arrival  in  a  more  suitable  place ;  but  be  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
the  bint,  and  dr^'ly  remarked  that  tbe  "  graf  would  not  be 
long  a-coming  now."  This  prediction  was,  however,  not  to 
be  verified ;  the  dreary  hours  of  the  dull  day  stole  heavily 
on,  and  although  I  tried  to  beguile  the  time  by  lounging 
about  the  place,  the  cold  ungenial  weather  drove  me  back  to 
the  stove,  or  to  the  dark  precincts  of  the  stable,  tenanted  by 
three  coarse  ponies  of  the  mountain  breed. 

One  of  these  was  the  graf's  favorite,  the  peasant  told 
me ;  and  indeed  here  he  showed  some  disposition  to  become 
communicative,  narrating  various  gifts  and  qualities  of  the 
unseemly  looking  animal,  which  in  his  eyes  was  a  paragon 
of  horseflesh.  ''  He  could  travel  from  here  to  Kehl  and 
back  in  a  day,  and  has  often  done  it,"  was  one  meed  of 
praise  that  he  bestowed,  —  a  fact  which  impressed  me  more 
as  regarded  the  rider  than  the  beast,  and  set  my  curiosity  at 
work  to  think  why  any  man  should  undertake  a  journey  of 
nigh  seventy  miles  between  two  such  places  and  with  such 
speed.  The  problem  served  to  occupy  me  till  dark,  and  I 
know  not  how  long  after.  A  stormy  night  of  rain  and  wind 
set  in ;  and  the  peasant,  having  bedded  and  foraged  his  cattle, 
lighted  a  rickety  old  lantern  and  began  to  prepare  for  bed, 
for  such  I  at  last  saw  was  the  meaning  of  a  long  crib,  like  a 
coffin,  half  filled  with  straw  and  sheepskins.  A  coarse  loaf 
of  black  bread,  some  black  forest  cheese,  and  a  flask  of 
Kleinthaler,  a  most  candid  imitation  of  vinegar,  made  their 
appearance  from  a  cupboard,  and  I  did  not  disdain  to  partake 
of  these  delicacies. 

My  host  showed  no  disposition  to  become  more  communi- 
cative over  his  wine,  and  indeed  the  liquor  might  have 
excused  any  degree  of  resei've ;  and  no  sooner  was  our  meal 
over  than,  drawing  a  great  woollen  cap  half  over  his  face,  he 
rolled  himself  up  in  his  sheepskins,  and  betook  himself  to 
gleep^  —  if  not  with  a  good  conscience,  at  least  with  a  sturdy 
volition  that  served  just  as  well. 

Occasionally  snatching  a  short  slumber,  or  walking  to  and 
fro  in  the  roomy  chamber,  I  passed  several  hours,  when  the 
splashing  sound  of  horses'  feet,  advancing  up  the  miry  road, 
attracted  me.  Several  times  before  that  I  had  been  deceived 
by  noises  which  turned  out  to  be  the  effects  of  storm  ;    but 

20 


402  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

now,  as  I  listened,  I  thought  I  could  hear  voices.  I  opened 
the  door,  but  all  was  dark  outside;  it  was  the  inky  hour 
before  daybreak,  when  all  is  wrapped  in  deepest  gloom.  The 
rain,  too,  was  sweeping  along  the  ground  in  torrents.  The 
sounds  came  nearer  every  instant,  and  at  last  a  deep  voice 
shouted  out,  ' '  Jacob  !  "  Before  I  could  awaken  the  sleeping 
peasant,  to  whom  I  judged  this  summons  was  addressed,  a 
horseman  dashed  up  to  the  door  and  rode  in;  another  as 
quickly  followed  him,  and  closed  the  door. 

'''•  Parhlea^  D'Egville,"  said  the  first  who  entered,  "we 
have  got  a  rare  peppering !  " 

"  Even  so,"  said  the  other,  as  he  shook  his  hat,  and  threw 
off  a  cloak  perfectly  soaked  with  rain ;  ^^  ala  guerre  comme  a 
la  guerre." 

This  was  said  in  French,  when,  turning  towards  me,  the 
former  said  in  German,  "Be  active,  Master  Jacob;  these 
nags  have  had  a  smart  ride  of  it.''  Then  suddenly,  as  the 
light  flashed  full  on  my  features,  he  started  back,  and  said, 
"  How  is  this  —  who  are  you?  " 

A  very  brief  explanation  answered  this  somewhat  uncour- 
teous  question,  and  at  the  same  time  I  placed  the  marquise's 
letter  in  his  hand,  saying,  "The  Count  de  Marsanne,  I 
presume." 

He  took  it  hastily,  and  drew  nigh  to  the  lantern  to  peruse 
it.  I  had  now  full  time  to  observe  him,  and  saw  that  he  was 
a  tall  and  well-built  man,  of  about  seven  or  eight-and-twent}^ 
His  features  were  remarkably  handsome,  and,  although 
slightly  flushed  by  his  late  exertion,  were  as  calm  and  com- 
posed as  might  be ;  a  short  black  mustache  gave  his  upper 
lip  a  slight  character  of  scorn,  but  the  brow,  open,  frank, 
and  good-tempered  in  its  expression,  redeemed  this  amply. 
He  had  not  read  many  lines  when,  turning  about,  he  apolo- 
gized in  the  most  courteous  terms  for  the  manner  of  my 
reception.  He  had  been  on  a  shooting  excursion  for  a  few 
days  back,  and  taken  all  his  people  with  him,  save  the 
peasant  who  looked  after  the  cattle.  Then,  introducing  me 
to  his  friend,  whom  he  called  Count  d'Egville,  he  led  the  way 
upstairs. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a  greater  contrast  to  the 
dark  and  dreary  coach-house  than  the  comfortable  suite  of 


"THE  CHATEAU    OE   ETTENHEIM."  403 

apartments  which  we  now  traversed  on  our  wa}^  to  a  large, 
well-furnished  room,  where  a  table  was  laid  for  supper,  and 
a  huge  wood-fire  blazed  brightly  on  the  hearth.  A  valet,  of 
most  respectful  manner,  received  the  count's  orders  to  pre- 
pare a  room  for  me,  after  which  my  host  and  his  friend 
retired  to  change  their  clothes. 

Although  D'Egville  was  many  years  older,  and  of  a  graver, 
sterner  fashion  than  the  other,  I  could  detect  a  degree  of 
deference  and  respect  in  his  manner  towards  him,  which  De 
Marsanne  accepted  like  one  well  accustomed  to  receive  it. 
It  was  a  time,  however,  when  in  the  wreck  of  fortune  so 
many  men  lived  in  a  position  of  mere  dependence  that  I 
thought  nothing  of  this,  nor  had  I  even  the  time,  as  Count 
de  Marsanne  entered.  From  my  own  preconceived  notions 
as  to  his  being  Laura's  lover,  I  was  quite  prepared  to  answer 
a  hundred  impatient  inquiries  about  the  marquise  and  her 
niece ;  and  as  we  were  now  alone,  I  judged  that  he  would 
deem  the  time  a  favorable  one  to  talk  of  them.  What  was 
my  surprise,  however,  when  he  turned  the  conversation 
exclusively  to  the  topic  of  my  own  journey,  —  the  route  I 
had  travelled.  He  knew  the  country  perfectly,  and  spoke  of 
the  various  towns  and  their  inhabitants  with  acuteness  and 
tact. 

His  Royalist  leanings  did  not,  like  those  of  the  marquise, 
debar  him  from  feeling  a  strong  interest  respecting  the 
success  of  the  Republican  troops,  with  whose  leaders  he  was 
thoroughly  acquainted,  knowing  all  theu'  peculiar  excellences 
and  defaults  as  though  he  had  lived  in  intimacy  with  them. 
Of  Bonaparte's  genius  he  was  the  most  enraptured  admirer, 
and  would  not  hear  of  any  comparison  between  him  and  the 
other  great  captains  of  the  day.  D'Egville  at  last  made  his 
appearance,  and  we  sat  down  to  an  excellent  supper,  enli- 
vened by  the  conversation  of  our  host,  who,  whatever  the 
theme,  talked  well  and  pleasingly. 

I  was  in  a  mood  to  look  for  flaws  in  his  character,  —  my 
jealousy  was  still  urging  me  to  seek  for  whatever  I  could 
find  fault  with,  —  and  yet  all  my  critical  shrewdness  could 
only  detect  a  slight  degree  of  pride  in  his  manner,  not  dis- 
playing itself  by  any  presumption,  but  by  a  certain  urbanity 
that  smacked  of  condescension ;  but  even  this  at  last  went 


404  MAURICE    TIERNAY. 

off,  and  before  I  wished  him  good-night,  I  felt  that  I  had 
never  met  any  one  so  gifted  with  agreeable  qualities  nor  pos- 
sessed of  such  captivating  manners  as  himself.  Even  his 
Royalism  had  its  fascinations,  for  it  was  eminently  national, 
and  showed  at  every  moment  that  he  was  far  more  of  a 
Frenchman  than  a  monarchist.  We  parted  without  one  word 
of  allusion  to  the  marquise  or  to  Laura !  Had  this  singular 
fact  an}'  influence  upon  the  favorable  impression  I  had  con- 
ceived of  him,  or  was  I  unconsciously  grateful  for  the  relief 
thus  given  to  all  my  jealous  tormentings?  Certain  is  it  that 
I  felt  infinitely  happier  than  I  ever  fancied  I  should  be  under 
his  roof,  and  as  I  lay  down  in  my  bed  thanked  my  stars  that 
he  was  not  my  rival. 

When  I  awoke  the  next  morning  I  was  some  minutes 
before  I  could  remember  where  I  was,  and  as  I  still  lay, 
gradually  recalling  myself  to  memory,  the  valet  entered  to 
announce  the  count. 

"  I  have  come  to  say  adieu  for  a  few  hours,"  said  he ;  "a 
very  pressing  appointment  requires  me  to  be  at  Pfortzheim 
to-day,  and  I  have  to  ask  that  you  will  excuse  my  absence. 
I  know  that  I  may  take  this  liberty  without  any  appearance 
of  rudeness,  for  the  marquise  has  told  me  all  about  you. 
Pray,  then,  try  and  amuse  youi'self  till  evening,  and  we  shall 
meet  at  supper." 

I  was  not  sorry  that  D'Egville  was  to  accompany  him,  and, 
turning  on  my  side,  dozed  off  to  sleep  away  some  of  the 
gloomy  hours  of  a  winter's  day. 

In  this  manner  several  days  were  passed,  the  count 
absenting  himself  each  morning,  and  returning  at  nightfall, 
—  sometimes  accompanied  by  D'Egville,  sometimes  alone. 
It  was  evident  enough  from  the  appearance  of  his  horses  at 
his  return,  as  well  as  from  his  own  jaded  looks,  that  he  had 
ridden  hard  and  far;  but,  except  a  chance  allusion  to  the 
state  of  the  roads  or  the  weather,  it  was  a  topic  to  which  he 
never  referred,  nor,  of  course,  did  I  ever  advert.  Meanwhile 
our  intimacy  grew  closer  and  franker.  The  theme  of  politics, 
a  forbidden  subject  between  men  so  separated,  was  con- 
stantly discussed  between  us ;  and  I  could  not  help  feeling 
flattered  at  the  deference  with  which  he  listened  to  opinions 
from  one  so  much  his  junior,  and  so  inferior  in  knowledge, 


"THE   CHATEAU  OF  ETTEXHEIM."  405 

as  myself.  Nothing  could  be  more  moderate  than  his  views 
of  government,  only  provided  that  it  was  administered  by 
the  rightful  sovereign.  The  claim  of  a  king  to  his  throne  he 
declared  to  be  the  foundation  of  all  the  rights  of  property, 
and  which,  if  once  shaken  or  disputed,  would  inevitably  lead 
to  the  wildest  theories  of  democratic  equality.  "I  don't 
want  to  convert  you,"  he  would  say,  laughingly;  "the  son 
of  an  old  Garde  du  Corps,  the  born  gentleman,  has  but  to 
live  to  learn.  It  may  come  a  little  later  or  a  little  earlier, 
but  you'll  end  as    a  good  monarchist." 

One  evening  he  was  unusually  late  in  returning,  and  when 
he  came  was  accompanied  by  seven  or  eight  companions,  — 
some  younger,  some  older,  than  himself,  but  all  men  whose 
air  and  bearing  bespoke  their  rank  in  life,  while  their  names 
recalled  the  thoughts  of  old  French  chivalry.  I  remember 
among  them  was  a  Coigny,  a  Grammont,  and  a  Rochefou- 
cauld,—  the  last  as  lively  a  specimen  of  Parisian  wit  and 
brilliancy  as  ever  fluttered  along  the   sunny  Boulevards. 

De  Marsanne,  while  endeavoring  to  enjoy  himself  and 
entertain  his  guests,  was,  to  my  thinking,  more  serious  than 
usual,  and  seemed  impatient  at  D'Egville's  absence,  for 
whose  coming  we    now  waited  supper. 

"  I  should  not  wonder  if  he  was  lost  in  the  deep  mud  of 
those  cross-roads,"  said  Coigny. 

"Or  perhaps  he  has  fallen  into  the  Republic,"  said 
Rochefoucauld;  "it's  the  only  thing  dirtier  that  I  know 
of." 

"  Monsieur  forgets  that  I  wear  its  cloth,"  said  I,  in  a  low 
whisper  to  him ;  and  low  as  it  was,  De  Marsanne  overheard 
it. 

"Yes,  Charles,"  cried  he,  "you  must  apologize,  and  on 
the  spot,   for  the  rudeness." 

Rochefoucauld  reddened  and  hesitated. 

"  I  insist,  sir,"  cried  De  Marsanne,  with  a  tone  of  supe- 
riority I   had  never  seen  him  assume  before. 

"Perhaps,"  said  he,  with  a  half-sneer,  "Monsieur  de 
Tiemay  might  refuse  to  accept  my  excuses." 

"  In  that  case,  sir,"  interposed  De  Marsanne,  "  the  quarrel 
will  become  mine ;  for  he  is  my  guest,  and  lives  here  under 
the  safeguard  of  my  honor." 


406  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

Rochefoucauld  bowed  submissively,  and  with  the  air  of  a 
man  severely  but  justly  rebuked ;  and  then  advancing  to  me 
said,  "I  beg  to  tender  you  my  apology.  Monsieur,  for  an 
expression  which  should  never  have  been  uttered  by  me  in 
your  presence." 

"Quite  sufficient,  sir,"  said  I,  bowing,  and  anxious  to 
conclude  a  scene  which  for  the  first  time  had  disturbed  the 
harmony  of  our  meetings.  Slight  as  was  the  incident,  its 
effects  were  yet  visible  in  the  disconcerted  looks  of  the 
party ;  and  I  could  see  that  more  than  one  glance  was 
directed  towards  me  with  an  expression  of  coldness  and 
distrust. 

"  Here  comes  D'Egville  at  last,"  said  one,  throwing  open 
the  window  to  listen ;  the  night  was  starlit,  but  dark,  and 
the  air  calm  and  motionless.  "  I  certainly  heard  a  horse's 
tread  on  the  causeway." 

"I  hear  distinctly  the  sound  of  several,"  cried  Coigny; 
"  and,  if  I  mistake  not  much,  so  does  Monsieur  de  Tiernay." 

This  sudden  allusion  turned  every  eye  towards  me,  as  I 
stood  still  suffering  from  the  confusion  of  the  late  scene. 
"  Yes ;  I  hear  the  tramp  of  horses,  and  cavalry  too,  I  should 
say,  by  their  measured  tread." 

"  There  was  a  trumpet-call !  "  cried  Coigny  ;  "  what  does 
that  mean?" 

"It  is  the  signal  to  take  open  order,"  said  I,  answering  as 
if  the  question  were  addressed  to  myself.  "It  is  a  picket 
taking  a  '  reconnaissance.'  " 

"  How  do  you  know  that,  sir?  "  said  Grammont,  sternly. 

"Ay!  how  does  he  know  that?"  cried  several,  passion- 
ately, as  they  closed  around  me. 

"  You  must  ask  in  another  tone,  messieurs,"  said  I,  calmly, 
"  if  you  expect  to  be  answered." 

"They  mean  to  say,  how  do  you  happen  to  know  the 
German  trumpet-calls,  Tiernay?"  said  De  Marsanne,  mildly, 
as  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  arm. 

"  It 's  a  French  signal,"  said  I ;  "  I  ought  to  know  it  well." 

Before  my  words  were  well  uttered  the  door  was  thrown 
open,  and  D'Egville  burst  into  the  room,  pale  as  death,  his 
clothes  all  mud-stained  and  disordered.  Making  his  way 
through  the  others,  he  whispered  a  few  words  in  De  Mar- 
sanne's  ear. 


"THE   CHATEAU  OF  ETTENHEIM."  407 

"  Impossible !  "  cried  the  other ;  "  we  are  here  iu  the  terri- 
tory of  the  margrave." 

"  It  is  as  I  say,"  replied  D'Egville  ;  "  there 's  not  a  second 
to  lose ;  it  may  be  too  late  even  now.  By  Heavens  it  is ! 
they  've  drawn  a  cordon  round  the  Chateau." 

"What's  to  be  done,  gentlemen?"  said  De  Marsanne, 
seating  himself  calmly,  and  crossing  his  arms  on  his  breast. 

"What  do  you  say,  sir?"  cried  Grammont,  advancing  to 
me  with  an  air  of  insolent  menace ;  "  you,  at  least,  ought  to 
know  the  way  out  of  this  difficulty." 

"  Or,  by  Heaven,  his  own  road  shall  be  one  of  the  shortest, 
considering  the  length  of  the  journey,"  muttered  another; 
and  I  could  hear  the  sharp  click  of  a  pistol-cock  as  he  spoke 
the  words. 

"This  is  unworthy  of  you,  gentlemen,  and  of  me,"  said 
De  Marsanne,  haughtily ;  and  he  gazed  around  him  with  a 
look  that  seemed  to  abash  them;  "  nor  is  it  a  time  to  hold 
such  disputation.  There  is  another  and  a  very  difficult  call 
to  answer.  Are  we  agreed  ?  "  Before  he  could  finish  the 
sentence  the  door  was  burst  open,  and  several  dragoons  in 
French  uniforms  entered  and  ranged  themselves  across  the 
entrance,  while  a  colonel,  with  his  sabre  drawn,  advanced  in 
front  of  them. 

"This  is  brigandage,"  cried  De  Marsanne,  passionately, 
as  he  drew  his  sword,  and  seemed  meditating  a  spring 
through  them;  but  he  was  immediately  surrounded  by  his 
friends  and  disarmed.  Indeed  nothing  could  be  more  hope- 
less than  resistance ;  more  than  double  our  number  were 
already  in  the  room,  while  the  hoarse  murmur  of  voices 
without  and  the  tramp  of  heavy  feet  announced  a  strong 
party. 

At  a  signal  from  their  officer,  the  dragoons  unslung  their 
carbines,  and  held  them  at  the  cock,  when  the  colonel  called 
out,  "  Which  of  you,  messieurs,  is  the  Due  d'Enghien?" 

"  If  you  come  to  arrest  him,"  replied  De  Marsanne,  "  you 
ought  to  have  his  description  in  your  warrant." 

"Is  the  descendant  of  a  Conde  ashamed  to  own  his 
name?  "  asked  the  colonel,  with  a  sneer.  "  But  we  '11  make 
short  work  of  it,  sirs ;  I  arrest  you  all.  My  orders  are  per- 
emptory, messieurs.  If  you  resist,  or  attempt  to  escape  —  " 
and  he  made  a  significant  sign  with  his  hand  to  finish. 


408  ^lAURICE   TIERXAY. 

The  due,  for  I  need  no  longer  call  him  De  Marsanne,  never 
spoke  a  word,  but  with  folded  arms  calmly  walked  forward, 
followed  by  his  little  household.  As  we  descended  the  stairs, 
we  found  ourselves  in  the  midst  of  about  thirty  dismounted 
dragoons,  all  on  the  alert,  and  prepared  for  any  resistance ; 
the  remxainder  of  a  squadron  were  on  horseback  without. 
With  a  file  of  soldiers  on  either  hand,  we  marched  for  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  across  the  fields  to  a  small  mill,  where  a 
general  oflScer  and  his  staff  seemed  awaiting  our  arrival. 
Here,  too,  a  picket  of  gens-d'armes  was  stationed ;  a  char- 
acter of  force  significant  enough  of  the  meaning  of  the  enter- 
prise. We  were  hurriedly  marched  into  the  court  of  the  mill, 
the  owner  of  which  stood  between  two  soldiers,  trembling 
from  head  to  foot  with  terror. 

"  Which  is  the  Due  d'Enghien?  "  asked  the  colonel  of  the 
miller. 

"  That  is  he  with  the  scarlet  vest ;  "  and  the  prince  nodded 
an  assent. 

"  Your  age,  Monsieur?  "  asked  the  colonel  of  the  prince. 

"  Thirtj^-two,  —  that  is,  I  should  have  been  so  much  in 
August,  were  it  not  for  this  visit,"  said  he,  smiling. 

The  colonel  wrote  on  rapidly  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then 
showed  the  paper  to  the  general,  who  briefly  said,  "Yes, 
yes ;  this  does  not  concern  you  nor  me." 

"I  wish  to  ask,  sir,"  said  the  prince,  addressing  the  gen- 
eral, "do  you  make  this  arrest  with  the  consent  of  the 
authorities  of  this  countr}^  or  do  3'ou  do  so  in  defiance  of 
them?" 

"You  must  reserve  questions  like  that  for  the  court  who 
will  judge  you,  Monsieur  de  Cond^,"  said  the  officer,  roughly. 
"  If  you  wish  for  any  articles  of  dress  from  your  quarters, 
you  had  better  think  of  them.  My  orders  are  to  convey  you 
to  Strasbourg.  Is  there  anything  so  singular  in  the  fact,  su', 
that  you  should  look  so  much  astonished  ?  " 

"There  is,  indeed,"  said  the  prince,  sorrowfull}".  "I 
shall  be  the  first  of  my  house  who  ever  crossed  that  frontier 
a  prisoner." 

"  But  not  the  first  who  carried  arms  against  his  country," 
rejoined  the  other,  —  a  taunt  the  due  only  replied  to  by  a 
look  of  infinite  scorn  and  contempt. 


"THE   CHATEAU  OF   ETTENHEIM."  409 

With  a  speed  that  told  plainly  the  character  of  the  expe- 
dition, we  were  now  placed,  two  together,  on  country  cars, 
and  driven  at  a  rapid  pace  towards  Strasbourg.  Relays  of 
cattle  awaited  us  on  the  road,  and  we  never  halted  but  for  a 
few  minutes  during  the  entire  journey.  My  companion  on 
this  dreary  day  was  the  Baron  de  St.  Jacques,  the  aide-de- 
camp to  the  due ;  but  he  never  spoke  once ;  indeed,  he 
scarcely  lifted  his  head  during  the  whole  road. 

Heaven  knows  it  was  a  melancholy  journey,  and  neither 
the  country  nor  the  season  were  such  as  to  lift  the  mind  from 
sorrow ;  and  yet,  strange  enough,  the  miles  glided  over 
rapidly,  and  to  this  hour  I  cannot  remember  by  what  magic 
the  way  seemed  so  short.  The  thought  that  for  several  days 
back  I  had  been  living  in  closest  intimacy  with  a  distin- 
guished prince  of  the  Bourbon  family ;  that  we  had  spent 
hours  together  discussing  themes  and  questions  which  were 
those  of  his  own  house,  canvassing  the  chances  and  weigh- 
ing the  claims  of  which  he  was  himself  the  asserter,  —  was  a 
most  exciting  feeling.  How  I  recalled  now  all  the  modest 
deference  of  his  manner,  his  patient  endurance  of  my  crude 
opinions,  his  generous  admissions  regarding  his  adversaries, 
and  above  all  his  ardent  devotion  to  France,  whatever  the 
hand  that  swayed  her  destinies ;  and  then  the  chivalrous 
boldness  of  his  character,  blended  with  an  almost  gu'lish 
gentleness,  —  how  princely  were  such  traits  ! 

From  these  thoughts  I  wandered  on  to  others  about  his 
arrest  and  capture,  from  which,  however,  I  could  not  believe 
any  serious  issue  was  to  come.  Bonaparte  is  too  noble- 
minded  not  to  feel  the  value  of  such  a  life  as  this.  Men 
like  the  prince  can  be  more  heavily  fettered  by  generous 
treatment  than  b}^  all  the  chains  that  ever  bound  a  felon. 
But  what  will  be  done  with  him,  what  with  his  followers  ;  and 
lastly,  not  at  all  the  pleasantest  consideration,  what  is  to 
come  of  Maurice  Tiemay,  who,  to  say  the  least,  has  been 
found  in  very  suspicious  company,  and  without  a  shadow  of 
an  explanation  to  account  for  it?  This  last  thought  just 
occurred  to  me  as  we  crossed  over  the  long  bridge  of  boats, 
and  entered  Strasbourg. 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

AN  "ordinary"  acquaintance. 

The  Due  d'Enghien  and  his  aide-de-camp  were  forwarded 
with  the  utmost  speed  to  Paris ;  the  remainder  of  us  were 
imprisoned  at  Strasbourg.  What  became  of  my  companions 
I  know  not;  but  I  was  sent  on,  along  with  a  number  of 
others,  about  a  month  later,  to  Nancy,  to  be  tried  by  a 
military  commission.  I  may  mention  it  here  as  a  singular 
fact  illustrating  the  secrecy  of  the  period,  that  it  was  not 
till  long  after  this  time  I  learned  the  terrible  fate  of  the  poor 
Prince  de  Conde.  Had  I  known  it,  it  is  more  than  probable 
that  I  should  have  utterly  despaired  of  my  own  safety.  The 
dreadful  story  of  Vincennes,  the  mock  trial,  and  the  mid- 
night execution  are  all  too  well  known  to  my  readers ;  nor  is 
it  necessary  I  should  refer  to  an  event  on  which  I  myself  can 
throw  no  new  light.  That  the  sentence  was  determined  on 
before  his  arrest,  and  that  the  grave  was  dug  while  the 
victim  was  still  sleeping  the  last  slumber  before  ' '  the  sleep 
that  knows  not  waking,"  the  evidences  are  strong  and  unde- 
niable. But  an  anecdote  which  circulated  at  the  time,  and 
which  so  far  as  I  know  has  never  appeared  in  print,  would 
seem  to  show  that  there  was  complicity  at  least  in  the  crime, 
and  that  the  secret  was  not  confined  to  the  First  Consul's 
breast. 

On  that  fatal  night  of  the  20th  March,  Talleyrand  was 
seated  at  a  card-table  at  Caulaincourt's  house  at  Paris. 
The  party  was  about  to  rise  from  play,  when  suddenly  the 
pendule  on  the  chimney-piece  struck  two.  It  was  in  one 
of  those  accidental  pauses  in  the  conversation  when  any 
sound  is  heard  with  unusual  distinctness.  Talleyrand  started 
as  he  heard  it,  and  then  turning  to  Caulaincourt,  whis- 
pered,  "Yes;  'tis  all   over  now!"    words  which,  acciden- 


AN   "ORDINARY"  ACQUAINTANCE.  411 

tally  overheard,  without  significance,  were  yet  to  convey  a 
terrible  meaning  when  the  dreadful  secret  of  that  night  was 
disclosed. 

If  the  whole  of  Europe  was  convulsed  by  the  enormity  of 
this  crime,  the  foulest  that  stains  the  name  of  Bonaparte, 
the  Parisians  soon  forgot  it  in  the  deeper  interest  of  the  great 
event  that  was  now  approaching,  —  the  assumption  of  the 
imperial  title  by  Napoleon. 

The  excitement  on  this  theme  was  so  great  and  absorbing 
that  nothing  else  was  spoken  or  thought  of.  Private  sorrows 
and  afflictions  were  disregarded  and  despised,  and  to  obtrude 
one's  hardships  on  the  notice  of  others  seemed,  at  this 
juncture,  a  most  ineffable  selfishness.  That  I,  a  prisoner, 
friendless  and  unknown  as  I  was,  found  none  to  sympathize 
with  me  or  take  interest  in  my  fate,  is  therefore  nothing 
extraordinary.  In  fact,  I  appeared  to  have  been  entirely  for- 
gotten ;  and  though  still  in  durance,  nothing  was  said  either 
of  the  charge  to  be  preferred  against  me,  nor  the  time  w^hen 
I  should  be  brought  to  trial. 

Giacourt,  an  old  lieutenant  of  the  marines,  and  at  that 
time  deputy-governor  of  the  Temple,  was  kind  and  good- 
natured  towards  me,  occasionally  telling  of  the  events  which 
were  happening  without,  and  giving  me  the  hope  that  some 
general  amnesty  would,  in  all  likelihood,  liberate  all  those 
whose  crimes  were  not  beyond  the  reach  of  mercy.  The 
little  cell  I  occupied  (and  to  Giacourt's  kindness  I  owed  the 
sole  possession  of  it)  looked  out  upon  the  tall  battlements 
of  the  outer  walls,  which  excluded  all  view  beyond,  and  thus 
drove  me  within  myself  for  occupation  and  employment.  In 
this  emergency  I  set  about  to  write  some  notices  of  my  life, 
some  brief  memoirs  of  those  changeful  fortunes  which  had 
accompanied  me  from  boyhood.  Many  of  those  incidents 
which  I  relate  now,  and  many  of  those  traits  of  mind  or 
temper  that  I  recall,  were  then  for  the  first  time  noted  down, 
and  thus  graven  on  my  memory. 

My  early  boyhood,  my  first  experience  as  a  soldier,  the 
campaign  of  the  Schwartz  Wald,  Ireland,  and  Genoa,  all 
were  mentioned  ;  and  writing  as  I  did  solely  for  myself  and 
my  own  eyes,  I  set  down  many  criticisms  on  the  generals  and 
their  plans  of  campaign,  which,  if  intended  for  the  inspection 


412  MAURICE   TIERXAF. 

of  others,  would  have  been  the  greatest  presumption  and 
impertinence,  —  and  in  this  way  Moreau,  Hoehe,  Massena, 
and  even  Bonaparte  came  in  for  a  most  candid  and  impartial 
criticism. 

How  Germany  might  have  been  conquered,  how  Ireland 
ought  to  have  been  invaded,  in  what  way  Italy  should  have 
been  treated,  and  lastly  the  grand  political  error  of  the 
seizure  of  the  Due  d'Enghien,  were  subjects  that  I  discussed 
and  determined  with  consummate  boldness  and  self-satis- 
faction. I  am  almost  overwhelmed  with  shame,  even  now,  as 
I  think  of  that  absurd  chronicle,  with  its  rash  judgments, 
its  crude  opinions,  and  its  pretentious  decisions. 

So  fascinated  had  I  become  with  my  task  that  I  rose  early 
to  resume  it  each  morning,  and  used  to  fall  asleep  cogitating 
on  the  themes  for  the  next  day,  and  revolving  within  myself 
all  the  passages  of  interest  I  should  commemorate.  A  man 
must  have  known  imprisonment  to  feel  all  the  value  that  can 
be  attached  to  any  object,  no  matter  how  mean  or  insignificant, 
that  can  employ  the  thoughts,  amuse  the  fancy,  or  engage 
the  affections.  The  narrow  cell  expands  under  such  magic; 
the  barred  casement  is  a  free  portal  to  the  glorious  sun 
and  the  free  air ;  the  captive  himself  is  but  the  student  bending 
over  his  allotted  task:.  To  this  happy  frame  of  mind  had  I 
come,  without  a  thought  or  a  wish  be3^ond  the  narrow  walls  at 
either  side  of  me,  when  a  sad  disaster  befell  me.  On  awak- 
ing one  morning,  as  usual,  to  resume  my  labor,  my  manu- 
script was  gone ;  the  table  and  writing  materials,  all  had 
disappeared ;  and,  to  increase  my  discomfiture,  the  tui-nkey 
informed  me  that  Lieutenant  Giacourt  had  been  removed 
from  his  post,  and  sent  off  to  some  inferior  station  in  the 
provinces. 

I  will  not  advert  to  the  dreary  time  which  followed  this 
misfoj^-tune,  a  time  in  which  the  hours  passed  on  unmeasured 
and  almost  unfelt.  Without  speculation,  without  a  wish,  I 
passed  my  days  in  a  stupid  indolence  akin  to  torpor.  Had 
the  prison-doors  been  open,  I  doubt  if  I  should  have  had  the 
energy  to  make  my  escape.  Life  itself  ceased  to  have  any 
value  for  me ;  but  somehow  I  did  not  desire  death.  I  was  in 
this  miserable  mood  when  the  tui'nkey  awoke  me  one  day  as 
I  was  dozing  on  my  bed. 


AN  "ORDINARY"  ACQUAINTANCE.  413 

''  Get  up,  aud  prepare  yourself  to  receive  a  visitor,"  said 
he.  "  There 's  an  othcer  of  the  staff  without,  come  to  see 
you ;  "  and  as  he  spoke,  a  young,  slightly-formed  man 
entered,  in  the  uniform  of  a  captain,  who,  making  a  sign  for 
the  turnkey  to  withdraw,  took  his  seat  at  my  bedside. 

''Don't  get  up.  Monsieur;  you  look  ill  and  weak,  so 
pray  let  me  not  disturb  you,"  said  he,  in  a  voice  of  kindly 
meaning. 

''I'm  not  ill,"  said  I,  with  an  effort, —  but  my  hollow 
utterance  and  my  sunken  cheeks  contradicted  my  words,  — 
"  but  I  have  been  sleeping ;  I  usually  doze  at  this  hour." 

"  The  best  thing  a  man  can  do  in  prison,  I  suppose,"  snid 
he,  smiling  good-naturedly. 

"  No,  not  the  best,"  said  I,  catching  up  his  words  too 
literally.  "I  used  to  write  the  whole  day  long,  till  they 
carried  away  my  paper  and  my  pens." 

"  It  is  just  of  that  very  thing  I  have  come  to  speak,  sir," 
resumed  he.     "  You  intended  that  memoir  for  publication?  " 

"No;  never!" 

"  Then  for  private  perusal  among  a  circle  of  friends?  " 

"  Just  as  little.  I  scarcely  know  three  people  in  the  world 
who  would  acknowledge  that  title." 

"  You  had  an  object,  however,  in  composing  it?  " 

"Yes;  to  occupy  thought ;  to  save  me  from  —  from  —  " 
I  hesitated,  for  I  was  ashamed  of  the  confession  that  nearly 
burst  from  me,  and,  after  a  pause,  I  said,  ''  from  being  such 
as  I  now  am !  " 

"  You  wrote  it  for  yourself  alone,  then?" 

"Yes." 

"Unprompted,  without  any  suggestion  from  another?" 

"  Is  it  here,"  said  I,  looking  around  my  cell,  —  "  is  it  here 
that  I  should  be  likely  to  find  a  fellow-laborer?" 

"  No;  but  I  mean  to  ask,  were  the  sentiments  your  own, 
without  any  external  influence  or  any  persuasions  from 
others  ?  " 

"  Quite  my  own." 

"  And  the  narrative  is  true?  " 

"Strictly  so,  I  believe." 

"  Even  to  your  meeting  with  the  Due  d'Enghien,  —  it  was 
purely  accidental?" 


414  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"  That  is,  I  never  knew  him  to  be  the  due  till  the  moment 
of  his  arrest?" 

"Just  so;  you  thought  he  was  merely  a  Royalist  noble. 
Then,  why  did  you  not  address  a  memoir  to  that  effect  to  the 
minister  ?  " 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  useless  ;  when  they  made  so  little 
of  a  Conde,  what  right  had  I  to  suppose  they  would  think 
much  about  me?" 

"If  he  could  have  proved  his  innocence  — "  he  stopped, 
and  then  in  an  altered  voice  said  :  ' '  But  as  to  this  memoir ; 
you  assume  considerable  airs  of  military  knowledge  in  it,  and 
many  of  the  opinions  smack  of  heads  older  than  yours." 

"They  are,  I  repeat,  my  own  altogether;  as  to  their  pre- 
sumption, I  have  already  told  you  they  were  intended  solely 
for  my  own  eye." 

"  So  that  you  are  not  a  Royalist?  " 

"No." 

"  Never  were  one?  " 

"  Never." 

' '  In  what  way  would  you  employ  yourself,  if  set  at  liberty 
to-day?" 

I  stared,  and  felt  confused  ;  for  however  easy  I  found  it  to 
refer  to  the  past,  and  reason  on  it,  any  speculation  as  to  the 
future  was  a  considerable  difficulty. 

"You  hesitate;  you  have  not  yet  made  up  your  mind, 
apparently." 

"It  is  not  that ;  I  am  trying  to  think  of  liberty,  trying  to 
fancy  myself  free,  but  I  cannot !  "  said  I,  with  a  weary  sigh ; 
"  the  air  of  this  cell  has  sapped  my  courage  and  my  energy ; 
a  little  more  will  finish  the  ruin !  " 

' '  And  yet  you  are  not  much  above  four  or  five-and-twenty 
years  of  age?  " 

"  Not  yet  twenty  !  "  said  I. 

"Come,  come,  Tiernay,  this  is  too  early  to  be  sick  of 
life !  "  said  he,  and  the  kind  tone  touched  me  so  that  I  burst 
into  tears.  The}^  were  bitter  tears,  too  ;  for,  while  my  heart 
was  relieved  by  this  gush  of  feeling,  I  was  ashamed  at  ni}^ 
own  weakness.  "  Come,  I  say,"  continued  he,  "  this  memoir 
of  yours  might  have  done  you  much  mischief ;  happily  it  has 
not  done  so.     Give  me  the  permission  to  throw  it  in  the  fire, 


AN  "ORDINARY"  ACQUAINTANCE.  415 

and,  instead  of  it,  address  a  respectful  petition  to  the  head 
of  the  State,  setting  forth  your  services,  and  stating  the 
casualty  by  which  you  were  implicated  in  Royalism.  I  will 
take  care  that  it  meets  his  eye,  and,  if  possible,  will  support 
its  prayer ;  above  all,  ask  for  re-instalment  in  your  grade  and 
a  return  to  the  service.  It  may  be,  perhaps,  that  you  can 
mention  some  superior  officer  who  would  vouch  for  your 
future  conduct." 

"  Except  Colonel  Mahon  —  " 

'  •  Xot  the  Colonel  Mahon  who  commanded  the  Thirteenth 
Cuirassiers  ?  " 

"The  same!" 

"  That  name  would  little  serve  you,"  said  he,  coldly ;  "he 
has  been  placed  en  retralte  some  time  back ;  and  if  your 
character  can  call  no  other  witness  than  him,  your  case  is  not 
too  favorable."  He  saw  that  the  speech  had  disconcerted 
me,  and  soon  added,  "Never  mind,  keep  to  the  memoir; 
state  your  case  and  your  apology,  and  leave  the  rest  to  For- 
tune.    When  can  you  let  me  have  it?  " 

"  By  to-morrow  —  to-night,  if  necessary." 

"  To-morrow  will  do  well,  and  so  good-by.  I  will  order 
them  to  supply  3'ou  with  writing  materials ;  "  and  slapping 
me  good-naturedly  on  the  shoulder,  he  cried,  "  Courage,  my 
lad  !  "  and  departed. 

Before  I  lay  down  to  sleep  that  night  I  completed  my 
"  memoir,"  the  great  difficulty  of  which  I  found  to  consist  in 
giving  it  that  dry  brevity  which  I  knew  Bonaparte  would 
require.  In  this,  however,  I  believe  I  succeeded  at  last, 
making  the  entire  document  not  to  occupy  one  sheet  of  paper. 
The  officer  had  left  his  card  of  address,  which  I  found  was 
inscribed  Monsieur  Bourrienne,  Rue  Lafitte,  —  a  name  that 
subsequently  was  to  be  well  known  to  the  world. 

I  directed  my  manuscript  to  his  care,  and  lay  down  with  a 
lighter  heart  than  I  had  known  for  many  a  day.  I  will  not 
weary  my  reader  with  the  tormenting  vacillations  of  hope  and 
fear  which  followed.  Day  after  day  went  over,  and  no 
answer  came  to  me.  I  addressed  two  notes,  respectful  but 
urgent,  begging  for  some  information  as  to  my  demand ; 
none  came.  A  month  passed  thus,  when  one  morning  the 
governor  of  the  Temple  entered  my  room  with  an  open  letter 
in  his  hand. 


416  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"This  is  an  order  for  your  liberation,  Monsieur  cle 
Tiernay,"  said  he;   "  you  are  free." 

"  Am  I  reinstated  in  my  grade?  "  asked  I,  eagerly. 

He  shook  his  head,  and  said  nothing. 

"  Is  there  no  mention  of  my  restoration  to  the  service?  " 

"  None,  sir." 

"Then  what  is  to  become  of  me, — to  what  end  am  I 
liberated  ?  "  cried  I,  passionately. 

"  Paris  is  a  great  city,  there  is  a  wide  world  beyond  it ;  and 
a  man  so  young  as  you  are  must  have  few^  resources,  or  he 
will  carve  out  a  good  career  for  himself." 

"  Say,  rather,  he  must  have  few  resentments,  sir,"  cried  I, 
bitterly,  "  or  he  will  easily  hit  upon  a  bad  one ;  "  and  with 
this,  I  packed  up  the  few  articles  I  possessed,  and  prepared 
to  depart. 

I  remember  it  well.  It  was  between  two  and  three  o'clock 
of  the  afternoon,  on  a  bright  day  in  spring,  that  I  stood  on 
the  Quai  Voltaire,  a  very  small  packet  of  clothes  in  a  bundle 
in  one  hand,  and  a  cane  in  the  other,  something  short  of  three 
louis  in  my  purse,  and  as  much  depression  in  my  heart  as 
ever  settled  down  in  that  of  a  youth  not  full  nineteen. 
Liberty  is  a  glorious  thing,  and  mine  had  been  perilled  often 
enough  to  give  me  a  hearty  appreciation  of  its  blessing ;  but 
at  that  moment,  as  I  stood  friendless  and  companionless  in  a 
great  thoroughfare  of  a  great  city,  I  almost  wished  myself 
back  again  within  the  dreary  walls  of  the  Temple,  for  some- 
how it  felt  like  home  !  It  is  true,  one  must  have  had  a  lonely 
lot  in  life  before  he  could  surround  the  cell  of  a  prison  with 
such  attributes  as  these.  Perhaps  I  have  more  of  the  cat- 
like affection  for  a  particular  spot  than  most  men ;  but  I 
do  find  that  I  attach  myself  to  walls  with  a  tenacity  that 
strengthens  as  I  grow  older,  and,  like  my  brother  parasite  the 
ivy,  my  grasp  becomes  more  rigid  the  longer  I  cling. 

If  I  know  of  few  merely  sensual  gratifications  higher  than 
a  lounge  through  Paris  at  the  flood-tide  of  its  population, 
watching  the  varied  hues  and  complexions  of  its  strange 
inhabitants,  displaying  as  they  do  in  feature,  air,  and  gesture 
so  much  more  of  character  and  purpose  than  other  people,  — 
so  also  do  I  feel  that  there  is  something  indescribably  miser- 
able in  being  alone,   unknown,   and  unnoticed  in  that  vast 


AN   "ORDINARY"  ACQUAINTANCE.  417 

throng,  destitute  of  means  for  the  present  and  devoid  of  hope 
for  the  future. 

Some  were  bent  on  business,  some  on  pleasure  ;  some  were 
evidently  bent  on  killing  time  till  the  hour  of  more  agreeable 
occupation  should  arrive ;  some  were  loitering  along,  gazing 
at  the  prints  in  shop-windows,  or  half  listlessly  stopping  to 
read  at  book-stalls.  There  was  not  only  every  condition  of 
mankind,  from  wealth  to  mendicancy,  but  every  frame  of 
mind,  from  enjoyment  to  utter  ennui ;  and  yet  I  thought  I 
could  not  hit  upon  any  one  individual  who  looked  as  forlorn 
and  cast-away  as  myself.  However,  there  were  many  who 
passed  me  that  day  who  would  gladly  have  changed  fortune 
with  me ;  but  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  persuade  me  of 
the  fact  in  the  mood  I  then  was. 

At  the  time  I  speak  of,  there  was  a  species  of  cheap  ordi- 
nary held  in  the  open  air  on  the  quay,  where  people  of  the 
humblest  condition  used  to  dine.  I  need  scarcely  describe 
the  fare,  —  the  reader  may  conceive  what  it  was,  which,  wine 
included,  cost  only  four  sous ;  a  rude  table  without  a  cloth, 
some  wooden  platters,  and  an  iron  rail  to  which  the  knives 
and  forks  were  chained,  formed  the  "  equipage,"  the  cookery 
bearing  a  due  relation  to  the  elegance  of  these  accessories. 
As  for  the  company,  if  not  polite  it  was  certainly  picturesque, 
consisting  of  laborers  of  the  lowest  class,  the  sweepers  of 
crossings,  hackney  cabmen  out  of  employ,  that  poorest  of  the 
poor  who  try  to  earn  a  livelihood  bj^  dragging  the  Seine  for 
lost  articles ;  and,  finally,  the  motley  race  of  idlers  who 
vacillate  between  beggary  and  ballad-singing,  with  now  and 
then  a  dash  at  highway  robbery  for  a  distraction,  —  a  class, 
be  it  said  without  paradox,  which  in  Paris  includes  a  consid- 
erable number  of  tolerably  honest  folk. 

The  moment  was  the  eventful  one  in  which  France  was 
about  once  more  to  become  a  monarchy  ;  and,  as  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  character  of  the  people,  it  was  a  time  of  high 
excitement  and  enthusiasm.  The  nation,  even  in  its  humblest 
citizen,  seemed  to  feel  some  of  the  reflected  glory  that  glanced 
from  the  great  achievements  of  Bonaparte,  and  his  elevation 
was  little  other  than  a  grand  manifestation  of  national  self- 
esteem.  That  he  knew  how  to  profit  by  this  sentiment,  and 
incorporate  his  own   with  the  country's  glory  so  that  they 

27 


418  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

seemed  to  be  inseparable,  is  not  among  the  lowest  nor  the 
least  of  the  efforts  of  his  genius. 

The  paroxysm  of  national  vanity,  for  it  was  indeed  no  less, 
imparted  a  peculiar  character  to  the  period.  A  vainglorious, 
boastful  spirit  was  abroad ;  men  met  each  other  with  high- 
sounding  gratulations  about  French  greatness  and  splendor, 
the  sway  we  wielded  over  the  rest  of  Europe,  and  the  influ- 
ence with  which  we  impressed  our  views  over  the  entire 
globe.  Since  the  fall  of  the  monarchy  there  had  been  half 
a  dozen  national  fevers.  There  was  the  great  Fraternal 
and  Equality  one ;  there  was  the  era  of  classical  associations, 
with  all  their  train  of  trumpery  affectation  in  dress  and 
manner ;  then  came  the  conquering  spirit,  with  the  flattering 
spectacle  of  great  armies ;  and  now,  as  if  to  complete  the 
cycle,  there  grew  up  that  exaggerated  conception  of  "  France 
and  her  mission  "  —  an  unlucky  phrase  that  has  since  done 
plenty  of  mischief  —  which  seemed  to  carry  the  nation  into 
the  seventh  heaven  of  overweening  self-love. 

If  I  advert  to  this  here,  it  is  but  passingly,  neither  stop- 
ping to  examine  its  causes  nor  seeking  to  inquire  the  conse- 
quences that  ensued  from  it,  but,  as  it  were,  chronicling  the 
fact  as  it  impressed  me  as  I  stood  that  day  on  the  Quai 
Voltaire,  perhaps  the  only  unimpassioned  lounger  along  its 
crowded  thoroughfare. 

Not  even  the  ordinary  a  quatre  sous  claimed  exemption 
from  this  sentiment.  It  might  be  supposed  that  meagre  diet 
and  sour  wine  were  but  sorry  provocatives  to  national  enthu- 
siasm ;  but  even  they  could  minister  to  the  epidemic  ardor, 
and  the  humble  dishes  of  that  frugal  board  masqueraded 
under  titles  that  served  to  feed  popular  vanity.  Of  this  I 
was  made  suddenly  aware  as  I  stood  looking  over  the  parapet 
into  the  river,  and  heard  the  rude  voices  of  the  laborers  as 
they  called  for  cutlets  a  la  Caire^  potatoes  en  Mamelouques, 
or  roast  beef  a  la  Monte  Notte^  while  every  goblet  of  their 
wine  was  tossed  off  to  some  proud  sentiment  of  national 
supremacy. 

Amused  by  the  scene,  so  novel  in  all  its  bearings,  I  took 
my  place  at  the  table,  not  sorry  for  the  excuse  to  myself  for 
partaking  so  humble  a  repast. 

'•'-Sacre  bleu  1 "  cried  a  rough-looking  fellow  with  a  red  night- 


AX   "ORDINARY"   ACQUAINTANCE.  419 

cap  set  on  one  side  of  the  head,  "  make  room  there !  we  have 
the  aristocrates  coming  down  among  us." 

"Monsieur  is  heartily  welcome,"  said  another,  making 
room  for  me  ;  "we  are  only  flattered  by  such  proofs  of  con- 
fidence and  esteem." 

"  Ay,j9arZ//e?i/ "  cried  a  third;  "the  Empire  is  coming, 
and  we  shall  be  well-bred  and  well-mannered.  I  intend  to 
give  up  the  river,  and  take  to  some  more  gentlemanlike  trade 
than  dredging  for  dead  men." 

"And  I,  I'll  never  sharpen  anything  under  a  rapier  or  a 
dress  sword  for  the  court,"  said  a  knife-grinder;  "  we  have 
been  living  like  canaille  hitherto  —  nothing  better." 

'''-  A  V  Empire^  a  V  Empire!'''  shouted  half  a  dozen  voices 
in  concert ;  and  the  glasses  were  drained  to  the  toast  with  a 
loud  cheer. 

Directly  opposite  to  me  sat  a  thin,  pale,  mild-looking  man 
of  about  fifty,  in  a  kind  of  stuff  robe  like  the  dress  of  a  village 
curate.  His  appearance,  though  palpably  poor,  was  vener- 
able and  imposing,  —  not  the  less  so,  perhaps,  from  its  con- 
trast with  the  faces  and  gestures  at  either  side  of  him.  Once 
or  twice,  while  these  ebullitions  of  enthusiasm  burst  forth, 
his  eyes  met  mine ;  and  I  read,  or  fancied  that  I  read,  a  look 
of  kindred  appreciation  in  their  mild  and  gentle  glance. 
The  expression  was  less  reproachful  than  compassionate,  as 
though  in  pity  for  the  ignorance  rather  than  in  reprobation 
for  the  folly.  Now,  strangely  enough,  this  was  precisely  the 
very  sentiment  of  my  own  heart  at  that  moment.  I  remem- 
bered a  somewhat  similar  enthusiasm  for  republican  liberty 
by  men  just  as  unfitted  to  enjoy  it ;  and  I  thought  to  myself, 
the  Empire,  like  the  Convention  or  the  Director}'-,  is  a  mere 
fabulous  conception  to  these  poor  fellows,  who,  whatever  may 
be  the  regime^  will  still  be  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of 
water  to  the  end  of  all  time. 

As  I  was  pondering  over  this,  I  felt  something  touch  my 
arm,  and  on  turning  perceived  that  my  opposite  neighbor 
had  now  seated  himself  at  my  side,  and  in  a  low,  soft  voice 
was  bidding  me  "  Good-day."  After  one  or  two  common- 
place remarks  upon  the  weather  and  the  scene,  he  seemed  to 
feel  that  some  apology  for  his  presence  in  such  a  place  was 
needful,  for  he  said,  — 


420  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

"You  are  here,  Mousieur,  from  a  feeling  of  curiosity, — 
that  I  see  well  enough;  but  I  come  for  a  very  different 
reason.  I  am  the  pastor  of  a  mountain  village  of  the 
Ardeche,  and  have  come  to  Paris  in  search  of  a  young  girl,  the 
daughter  of  one  of  my  flock,  who,  it  is  feared,  has  been  car- 
ried off  by  some  evil  influence  from  her  home  and  her  friends, 
to  seek  fortune  and  fame  in  this  rich  capital ;  for  she  is  sin- 
gularly beautiful,  and  gifted  too;  sings  divinely,  and  im- 
provises poetry  with  a  genius  that  seems  inspiration." 

There  was  a  degree  of  enthusiasm,  blended  with  simplicity, 
in  the  poor  cure's  admiration  of  his  "lost  sheep"  that 
touched  me  deeply.  He  had  been  now  three  weeks  in  vain 
pursuit,  and  was  at  last  about  to  turn  homeward,  discomfited 
and  unsuccessful.  Lisette  was  the  very  soul  of  the  little 
hamlet,  and  he  knew  not  how  life  was  to  be  carried  on  there 
without  her.  The  old  loved  her  as  a  daughter ;  the  young 
were  rivals  for  her  regard. 

"  And  to  me,"  said  the  p^?'e,  "  whom,  in  all  the  solitude  of 
my  lonely  lot,  literature,  and  especially  poetry,  consoles 
many  an  hour  of  sadness  or  melancholy,  —  to  me,  she  was 
like  a  good  angel,  her  presence  diffusing  light  as  she  crossed 
my  humble  threshold,  and  elevating  my  thoughts  above  the 
little  crosses  and  accidents  of  dail}^  life." 

So  interested  had  I  become  in  this  tale  that  I  listened 
while  he  told  every  circumstance  of  the  little  locality ;  and 
walking  along  at  his  side,  I  wandered  out  of  the  city,  still 
hearing  of  La  Marche,  as  the  village  was  called,  till  I  knew 
the  ford  where  the  blacksmith  lived,  and  the  miller  with  the 
cross  wife,  and  the  lame  schoolmaster,  and  Pierre  the  post- 
master, who  read  out  the  "Moniteur"  each  evening  under 
the  elms,  —  even  to  Jacques  Fulgeron  the  tapageur,  who  had 
served  at  Jemappes,  and,  with  his  wounded  hand  and  his 
waxed  mustache,  was  the  terror  of  all  peaceable  folk. 

"  Y^ou  should  come  and  see  us,  my  dear  monsieur,"  said 
he  to  me,  as  I  showed  some  more  than  common  interest  in 
the  narrative.  "  Y"ou,  who  seem  to  study  character,  would 
find  something  better  worth  the  notice  than  these  hardened 
natures  of  city  life.  Come,  and  spend  a  week  or  two  with 
me ;  and  if  you  do  not  like  our  people  and  their  ways,  I  am 
but  a  sorry  physiognomist." 


AN   "ORDINARY"  ACQUAINTANCE.  421 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  I  was  much  flattered  b}-  this 
kind  proof  of  confidence  and  good-will;  and  finally  it  was 
agreed  upon  between  us  that  I  should  aid  him  in  his  search 
for  three  days,  after  which,  if  still  unsuccessful,  we  should 
set  out  together  for  La  Marche.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  the 
poor  cure  was  pleased  at  my  partnership  in  the  task,  for  there 
were  several  public  places  of  resort  —  theatres,  "  spectacles," 
and  the  like  —  to  which  he  scrupled  to  resort ;  and  these  he 
now  willingly  conceded  to  my  inspection,  having  previously 
given  me  so  accurate  a  description  of  La  Lisette  that  I 
fancied  I  should  recognize  her  amongst  a  thousand.  If  her 
long  black  eyelashes  did  not  betray  her,  her  beautiful  teeth 
were  sure  to  do  so ;  or,  if  I  heard  her  voice,  there  could  be 
no  doubt  then ;  and,  lastly,  her  foot  would  as  infallibly 
identify  her  as  did  Cinderella's. 

For  want  of  better,  it  was  agreed  upon  that  we  should 
make  the  Restaurant  a  Quatre  Sous  our  rendezvous  each  day, 
to  exchange  our  confidences  and  report  progress.  It  will 
scarcely  be  believed  how  even  this  much  of  a  pui'suit  diverted 
my  mind  from  its  own  dark  dreamings,  and  how  eagerly  my 
thoughts  pursued  the  new  track  that  was  opened  to  them. 
It  was  the  utter  listlessness,  the  nothingness  of  my  life,  that 
was  weighing  me  down ;  and  already  I  saw  an  escape  from 
this  in  the  pursuit  of  a  good  object.  I  could  wager  that  the 
pastor  of  La  Marche  never  thought  so  intensely,  so  uninter- 
ruptedly, of  Lisette  as  did  I  for  the  four-and-twenty  hours 
that  followed.  It  was  not  only  that  I  had  created  her  image 
to  suit  my  fancy,  but  I  had  invented  a  whole  narrative  of  her 
life  and  adventures  since  her  arrival  in  Paris. 

My  firm  conviction  being  that  it  was  lost  time  to  seek  for 
her  in  obscure  and  out-of-the-way  quarters  of  the  city,  I 
thought  it  best  to  pursue  the  search  in  the  thronged  and 
fashionable  resorts  of  the  gay  world,  —  the  assemblies  and 
theatres.  Strong  in  this  conviction,  I  changed  one  of  my 
three  gold  pieces  to  purchase  a  ticket  for  the  opera.  The 
reader  may  smile  at  the  sacrifice ;  but  when  he  who  thinks 
four  sous  enough  for  a  dinner  pays  twelve  francs  for  the 
liberty  to  be  crushed  in  the  crowded  parterre  of  a  play-house, 
he  is  indeed  buying  pleasure  at  a  costly  price.  It  was  some- 
thing more  than  a  fifth  of  all  I  possessed  in  the  world  ;   but, 


422  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

after  all,  my  chief  regret  arose  from  thinking  that  it  left  me 
so  few  remaining  "  throws  of  the  dice"  for  fortune. 

I  have  often  reflected  since  that  day  by  what  a  mere  acci- 
dent I  was  present,  and  yet  the  spectacle  was  one  that  I  have 
never  forgotten.  It  was  the  last  time  the  First  Consul 
appeared  in  public  before  his  assumption  of  the  imperial 
title ;  and  at  no  period  through  all  his  great  career  was  the 
enthusiasm  more  impassioned  regarding  him.  He  sat  in  the 
box  adjoining  the  stage,  —  Cambaceres  and  Lebrun,  with  a 
crowd  of  others,  standing,  and  not  sitting,  around  and 
behind  his  chaii*.  When  he  appeared,  the  whole  theatre  rose 
to  greet  him ;  and  three  several  times  was  he  obliged  to  rise 
and  acknowledge  the  salutations.  And  with  what  a  stately 
condescension  did  he  make  these  slight  acknowledgments ! 
what  haughtiness  was  there  in  the  glance  he  threw  around 
him  !  I  have  often  heard  it  said,  and  I  have  seen  it  also 
written,  that  previous  to  his  assumption  of  the  crown  Bona- 
parte's manner  exhibited  the  mean  arts  and  subtle  devices  of 
a  candidate  on  the  hustings,  dispensing  all  the  flatteries  and 
scattering  all  the  promises  that  such  occasions  are  so  prolific 
of.  I  cannot,  of  course,  pretend  to  contradict  this  statement 
positively ;  but  I  can  record  the  impression  which  that  scene 
made  upon  me  as  decidedly  the  opposite  of  this  assumption. 
I  have  repeatedly  seen  him  since  that  event,  but  never  do  I 
remember  his  calm,  cold  features  more  impassively  stern, 
more  proudly  collected,  than  on  that  night. 

Every  allusion  of  the  piece  that  could  apply  to  him  was 
eagerly  caught  up.  Not  a  phrase  nor  a  chance  word  that 
could  compliment  was  passed  over  in  silence ;  and  if  great- 
ness and  glory  were  accorded,  as  if  by  an  instinctive  rever- 
ence the  vast  assemblage  turned  towards  him  to  lay  their 
homage  at  his  feet.  I  watched  him  narrowly,  and  could  see 
that  he  received  them  all  as  his  rightful  tribute,  the  earnest 
of  the  debt  the  nation  owed  him.  Among  the  incidents  of 
that  night,  I  remember  one  which  actual^  for  the  moment 
convulsed  the  house  with  its  enthusiasm.  One  of  the  officers 
of  his  suite  had  somehow  stumbled  against  Bonaparte's  hat, 
which,  on  entering,  he  had  thrown  carelessly  beside  his  chair. 
Stooping  down  and  lifting  it  up,  he  perceived  to  whom  it 
belonged ;  and  then  remarking  the  mark  of  a  bullet  on  the 


AN  "ORDINARY"  ACQUAINTANCE.  423 

edge,  he  showed  it  significantly  to  a  general  near  him. 
Slight  and  trivial  as  was  the  incident,  it  was  instantly  caught 
up  by  the  parterre.  A  low  murmur  ran  quickly  around  ;  and 
then  a  sudden  cheer  burst  forth,  for  some  one  remembered 
it  was  the  anniversary  of  Marengo !  And  now  the  excite- 
ment became  madness,  and  reiterated  shouts  proclaimed  that 
the  glory  of  that  day  was  among  the  proudest  memories  of 
France.  For  once,  and  once  only,  did  any  trait  of  feeling 
show  itself  on  that  impassive  face.  I  thought  I  could  mark 
even  a  faint  tinge  of  color  in  that  sallow  cheek,  as  in  recog- 
nition he  bowed  a  dignified  salute  to  the  waving  and  agitated 
assembly. 

I  saw  that  proud  face  at  moments  when  human  ambition 
might  have  seemed  to  have  reached  its  limit,  and  yet  never 
with  a  haughtier  look  than  on  that  night  I  speak  of.  His 
foot  was  already  on  the  first  step  of  the  throne,  and  his 
spu'it  seemed  to  swell  with  the  conscious  force  of  coming 
greatness. 

And  Lisette,  all  this  time?  Alas,  I  had  totally  forgotten 
her !  As  the  enthusiasm  around  me  began  to  subside,  I  had 
time  to  recover  myself,  and  look  about  me.  There  was  much 
beauty  and  splendor  to  admire.  Madame  Junot  was  there, 
and  jMademoiselle  de  Bessieres,  with  a  crowd  of  others  less 
known  and  scarcely  less  lovely.  Not  one,  however,  could  I 
see  that  corresponded  with  my  mind-draw^n  portrait  of  the 
peasant  beauty ;  and  I  scanned  each  face  closely  and  criti- 
cally. There  was  female  loveliness  of  every  type,  from  the 
dark-eyed  beauty  of  Spanish  race  to  the  almost  divine  regular- 
ity of  a  Raphaelite  picture ;  there  was  the  brilliant  aspect  of 
fashion,  too,  —  but  nowhere  could  I  see  what  I  sought  for, 
nowhere  detect  that  image  which  imagination  had  stamped  as 
that  of  the  beauty  of  La  Marche. 

If  disappointed  in  my  great  object,  I  left  the  theatre  witli 
my  mind  full  of  all  I  had  witnessed.  The  dreadful  event  of 
Ettenheim  had  terribly  shaken  Bonaparte  in  my  esteem,  yet 
how  resist  the  contagious  devotion  of  a  whole  nation,  how 
remain  cold  in  the  midst  of  the  burning  zeal  of  all  France? 
These  thoughts  brought  me  to  the  consideration  of  myself. 
Was  I,  or  was  I  not,  any  longer  a  soldier  of  his  army ;  oi- 
was  I  disqualified  for  joining  in  that  burst  of  national  enthu- 


424  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

siasm  which  proclaimed  that  all  France  was  ready  to  march 
under  his  banner?  To-morrow  I  '11  wait  upon  the  minister  of 
war,  thought  I,  or  I  '11  seek  out  the  commanding  officer  of 
some  regiment  that  I  know,  or  at  least  a  comrade ;  and  so  I 
went  on,  endeavoring  to  frame  a  plan  for  my  guidance  as  I 
strolled  along  the  streets,  which  were  now  almost  deserted. 
The  shops  were  all  closed ;  of  the  hotels,  such  as  were  j^et 
open  were  far  too  costly  for  means  like  mine ;  and  so,  as  the 
night  was  calm  and  balmy  with  the  fresh  air  of  spring,  I 
resolved  to  pass  it  out  of  doors.  I  loitered  then  along  the 
Champs  Elysees,  and  at  length  stretching  myself  on  the  grass 
beneath  the  trees,  lay  down  to  sleep.  "An  odd  bedroom 
enough,"  thought  I,  "  for  one  who  has  passed  the  evening  at 
the  opera,  and  who  has  feasted  his  ears  at  the  expense  of  his 
stomach."  I  remembered,  too,  another  night  when  the  sky 
had  been  my  canopy  in  Paris,  when  I  slept  beneath  the 
shadow  of  the  guillotine  and  the  Place  de  Greve.  "Well," 
thought  I,  ' '  times  are  at  least  changed  for  the  better  since 
that  day;   and  my  own  fortunes  are  certainly  not  lower." 

This    comforting  reflection  closed  my  waking   memories, 
and  I  slept  soundly  till  morning. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 


THE    '*  COUNT   DE    MAUREPAS,      ALIAS 


There  is  a  wide  gulf  between  him  who  opens  his  waking 
eyes  in  a  splendid  chamber,  and  with  half -drowsy  thoughts 
speculates  on  the  pleasures  of  the  coming  day,  and  him  who 
rising  from  the  dew-moistened  earth  stretches  his  aching 
limbs  for  a  second  or  so,  and  then  hurries  away  to  make  his 
toilette  at  the  nearest  fountain. 

I  have  known  both  conditions,  and  yet,  without  being 
thought  paradoxical,  I  would  wish  to  say  that  there  are  some 
sensations  attendant  on  the  latter  and  the  humbler  lot  which 
I  would  not  exchange  for  all  the  voluptuous  ease  of  the 
former.  Let  there  be  but  youth,  and  there  is  something  of 
heroism,  something  adventurous,  in  the  notion  of  thus  alone 
and  unaided  breasting  the  wide  ocean  of  life,  and  like  a 
hardy  swimmer  daring  to  stem  the  roughest  breakers  with- 
out one  to  succor  him,  that  is  worth  all  the  security  that 
even  wealth  can  impart,  all  the  conscious  ease  that  luxury 
and  affluence  can  supply.  In  a  world  and  an  age  like  ours, 
thought  I,  there  must  surely  be  some  course  for  one  3'oung, 
active,  and  daring  as  I  am.  Even  if  France  reject  me,  there 
are  countries  beyond  the  seas  where  energy  and  determina- 
tion will  open  a  path.  "Courage,  Maurice!"  said  I,  as  I 
dashed  the  sparkling  water  over  my  head  ;  ' '  the  past  has  not 
been  all  inglorious,  and  the  future  may  prove  even  better." 

A  roll  and  a  glass  of  iced  water  furnished  my  breakfast, 
after  which  I  set  forth  in  good  earnest  on  my  search.  There 
was  a  sort  of  self-flattery  in  the  thought  that  one  so  destitute 
as  I  was  could  devote  his  thoughts  and  energies  to  the  ser- 
vice of  another  that  pleased  me  greatly.  It  was  so  "un- 
selfish," —  at  least  I  thought  so.  Alas  and  alas !  how 
egotistical  are  we  when  we  fancy  ourselves  least  so !     That 


426  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

clay  I  visited  St.  Roch  and  Notre  Dame  at  early  mass,  and 
by  noon  reached  the  Louvre,  the  gallery  of  which  occupied 
me  till  the  houi'  of  meeting  the  cure  drew  nigh. 

Punctual  to  his  appointment,  I  found  him  waiting  for  me 
at  the  corner  of  the  quay  ;  and  although  disappointed  at  the 
failure  of  all  his  efforts,  he  talked  away  with  all  the  energy 
of  one  who  would  not  suffer  himself  to  be  cast  down  by 
adverse  fortune.  "I  feel,"  said  he,  ''a  kind  of  instinctive 
conviction  that  we  shall  find  her  yet.  There  is  something 
tells  me  that  all  our  pains  shall  not  go  unrewarded.  Have 
you  never  experienced  a  sensation  of  this  kind,  —  a  species 
of  inward  prompting  to  pursue  a  road,  to  penetrate  into  a 
pass,  or  to  explore  a  way,  without  exactly  knowing  why  or 
wherefore?  " 

This  question,  vague  enough  as  it  seemed,  led  me  to  talk 
about  myself  and  my  own  position,  — a  theme  which,  how- 
ever much  I  might  have  shrunk  from  introducing,  when  once 
opened,  I  spoke  of  iu  all  the  freedom  of  old  friendship. 

Nothing  could  be  more  delicate  than  the  priest's  manner 
during  all  this  time ;  nor  even  when  his  curiosity  was 
highest  did  he  permit  himself  to  ask  a  question  or  an  expla- 
nation of  any  difficulty  that  occurred ;  and  while  he  followed 
my  recital  with  a  degree  of  interest  that  was  most  flattering, 
he  never  veutui'ed  on  a  word  or  dropped  a  remark  that  might 
seem  to  urge  me  to  greater  frankness. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  he,  at  last,  "why  your  story  has 
taken  such  an  uncommon  hold  upon  my  attention?  It  is  not 
from  its  adventurous  character,  nor  from  the  stirring  and 
strange  scenes  you  have  passed  through.  It  is  because  your 
old  pastor  and  guide,  the  Pere  Delannois,  was  ni}^  own  dear- 
est friend,  my  school  companion  and  playfellow  from  in- 
fancy. We  were  both  students  at  Louvain  together,  both 
called  to  the  priesthood  on  the  same  day.  Think,  then,  of 
my  intense  delight  at  hearing  his  dear  name  once  more,  — 
ay,  and  permit  me  to  say  it,  hearing  from  the  lips  of  another 
the  very  precepts  and  maxims  that  I  can  recognize  as  his 
own!  Ah,  yes!  77io?i  cher  Maurice,"  cried  he,  grasping  my 
hand  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm,  "  disguise  it  how  you  ma}^, 
cover  it  up  under  the  uniform  of  a  '  Bleu,'  bury  it  beneath 
the  shako  of  the  soldier  of  the  Republic,  but  the  head  and  the 


THE   "COUNT   DE   MAUREPAS,"  .VLIAS .         427 

heart  will  turn  to  the  ancient  altars  of  the  Church  and  the 
Monarchy.  It  is  not  alone  that  your  good  blood  suggests 
this,  but  all  your  experience  of  life  goes  to  prove  it.  Think 
of  poor  Michel,  self-devoted,  generous,  and  noble-hearted ; 
think  of  that  dear  cottage  at  Kuft'stein,  where  even  in 
poverty  the  dignity  of  birth  and  blood  thi-ew  a  grace  and 
an  elegance  over  daily  life ;  think  of  Ettenheini  and  the 
glorious  prince  —  the  last  Conde  —  who  now  sleeps  in  his 
narrow  bed  in  the  fosse  of  Vincennes !  " 

''  How  do  you  mean?  "  said  I,  eagerly  ;  for  up  to  this  time 
I  knew  nothing  of  his  fate. 

"•  Come  along  with  me,  and  you  shall  know  it  all,"  said  he ; 
and,  rising,  he  took  my  arm,  and  we  sauntered  along  out  of 
the  crowded  street  till  we  reached  the  Boulevards.  He  then 
narrated  to  me  every  incident  of  the  midnight  trial,  the 
sentence,  and  the  execution.  From  the  death-warrant  that 
came  down  ready  filled  from  Paris  to  the  grave  dug  while  the 
\actim  was  yet  sleeping,  —  he  forgot  nothing ;  and  I  own  that 
my  very  blood  ran  cold  at  the  terrible  atrocity  of  that  dark 
murder.  It  was  already  growing  dusk  when  he  had  finished, 
and  we  parted  hurriedly,  as  he  was  obliged  to  be  at  a  distant 
quarter  of  Paris  by  eight  o'clock,  again  agreeing  to  meet,  as 
before,  on  the  Quai  Voltaire. 

From  that  moment  till  we  met  the  following  day,  the  Due 
d'Enghien  was  never  out  of  my  thoughts ;  and  I  was  impa- 
tient for  the  priest's  presence,  that  I  might  tell  him  every 
little  incident  of  our  daily  life  at  Ettenheim,  the  topics  we 
used  to  discuss,  and  the  opinions  he  expressed  on  various 
subjects.  The  eagerness  of  the  cure  to  listen  stimulated  me 
to  talk  on,  and  I  not  only  narrated  all  that  1  was  myself 
a  witness  of,  but  various  other  circumstances  which  were  told 
to  me  by  the  prince  himself,  —  in  particular,  an  incident  he 
mentioned  to  me  one  day  of  being  visited  by  a  stranger,  who 
came  introduced  by  a  letter  from  a  very  valued  friend,  his 
business  being  to  propose  to  the  due  a  scheme  for  the 
assassination  of  Bonaparte.  At  first  the  prince  suspected 
the  whole  as  a  plot  against  himself ;  but  on  further  question- 
ing, he  discovered  that  the  man's  intentions  were  really  such 
as  he  professed  them,  and  offered  his  services  in  the  convic- 
tion that  no  price  could  be  deemed  too  high  to  reward  him. 


428  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  offer  was  rejected  with  indigna- 
tion, and  the  prince  dismissed  the  fellow  with  the  threat  of 
delivering  him  up  to  the  government  of  the  French  Consul. 
The  pastor  heard  this  anecdote  with  deep  attention,  and  for 
the  first  time  diverging  from  his  line  of  cautious  reserve,  he 
asked  me  various  questions  as  to  when  the  occurrence  had 
taken  place,  and  where ;  if  the  prince  had  communicated 
the  circumstance  to  any  other  than  myself,  and  whether  he 
had  made  it  the  subject  of  any  correspondence.  I  knew 
little  more  than  I  had  already  told  him ;  that  the  offer  was 
made  while  residing  at  Ettenheim,  and  during  the  preceding- 
year,  were  facts,  however,  that  I  could  remember. 

"  You  are  surprised,  perhaps,"  said  he,  "  at  the  interest  I 
feel  in  all  this ;  but,  strangely  enough,  there  is  here  in  Paris 
at  this  moment  one  of  the  great  seigneurs  of  the  Ardeche ; 
he  has  come  up  to  the  capital  for  medical  advice,  and  he 
was  a  great,  perhaps  the  greatest,  friend  of  the  poor  due. 
What  if  you  were  to  come  and  pay  him  a  visit  with  me ; 
there  is  not  probably  one  favor  the  whole  world  could 
bestow  he  would  value  so  highly.  You  must  often  have 
heard  his  name  from  the  prince ;  has  he  not  frequently 
spoken  of  the  Count  de  Maurepas  ?  "  I  could  not  remember 
having  ever  heard  the  name.  "It  is  historical,  however," 
said  the  cure^  "  and  even  in  our  own  days  has  not  derogated 
from  its  ancient  chivalry.  Have  you  not  heard  how  a  noble 
of  the  Court  rode  postilion  to  the  king's  carriage  on  the 
celebrated  escape  from  Varennes?  Well,  even  for  curiosity 
sake  he  is  worth  a  visit ;  for  this  is  the  very  Count  Henri  de 
Maurepas,  now  on  the  verge  of  the  grave !  " 

If  the  good  cure  had  known  me  all  my  life,  he  could  not 
more  successfully  have  baited  a  trap  for  my  curiosity.  To 
see  and  know  remarkable  people,  men  who  had  done  some- 
thing,out  of  the  ordinary  route  of  every-day  life,  had  been  a 
passion  with  me  from  boyhood.  Hero-worship  was,  indeed, 
a  great  feature  in  my  character,  and  has  more  or  less  influ- 
enced all  my  career ;  nor  was  I  insensible  to  the  pleasure  of 
doing  a  kind  action.  It  was  rare,  indeed,  that  one  so  hum- 
bly placed  could  ever  confer  a  favor,  and  I  grasped  with 
eagerness  the  occasion  to  do  so.  We  agreed,  then,  on  the 
next  afternoon,  towards  nightfall,  to  meet  at  the  quay,  and 


THE    "COUNT   DE   MAUREPAS,"   ALIAS .  429 

proceed  together  to  the  count's  residence.  I  have  often 
reflected,  since  that  day,  that  Lisette's  name  was  scarcely 
ever  mentioned  by  either  of  us  during  this  inten-iew ;  and 
yet  at  the  time,  so  pre-occupied  were  my  thoughts,  I  never 
noticed  the  omission.  The  Chateau  of  Ettenheim,  and  its 
tragic  stoiT,  filled  my  mind  to  the  exclusion  of  all  else. 

I  pass  over  the  long  and  dreary  hours  that  inten'ened,  and 
come  at  once  to  the  time,  a  little  after  sunset,  when  we  met 
at  our  accustomed  rendezvous. 

The  cure  had  provided  a  Jiacre  for  the  occasion,  as  the 
count's  residence  was  about  two  leagues  from  the  city,  on 
the  way  to  Belleville.  As  we  trotted  along,  he  gave  me  a 
most  interesting  account  of  the  old  noble,  whose  life  had 
been  one  continued  act  of  devotion  to  the  monarchy. 

"It  will  be  difficult,"  said  he,  "for  you  to  connect  the 
poor,  worn-out,  shattered  wreck  before  you  with  all  that  was 
daring  in  deed  and  chivalrous  in  sentiment ;  but  the  Maure- 
pas  were  well  upheld  in  all  their  glorious  renown  by  him  who 
is  now  to  be  the  last  of  the  race.  You  will  see  him  reduced 
by  suffering  and  sickness,  scarcely  able  to  speak ;  but  be 
assured  that  you  will  have  his  gratitude  for  this  act  of  true 
benevolence." 

Thus  chatting,  we  rattled  along  over  the  paved  highway, 
and  at  length  entered  upon  a  deep  clay  road  which  conducted 
us  to  a  spacious  park,  with  a  long,  straight  avenue  of  trees, 
at  the  end  of  which  stood  what,  even  in  the  uncertain  light, 
appeared  a  spacious  chateau.  The  door  lay  open,  and,  as  we 
descended,  a  servant  in  plain  clothes  received  us ;  and,  after 
a  whispered  word  or  two  from  the  cure^  ushered  us  along 
through  a  suite  of  rooms  into  a  large  chamber  furnished  like 
a  study.  There  were  book-shelves  well  filled,  and  a  writing- 
table  covered  with  papers  and  letters,  and  the  whole  floor  was 
littered  with  newspapers  and  journals. 

A  lamp,  shaded  by  a  deep  gauze  cover,  threw  a  half-light 
over  everything  ;  nor  was  it  until  we  had  been  nearly  a  couple 
of  minutes  in  the  room  that  we  became  aware  of  the  presence 
of  the  count,  who  lay  upon  a  sofa,  covered  up  in  a  fur 
pelisse,  although  the  season  was  far  advanced  in  spring. 

His  gentle  "  Good  evening,  messieurs,"  was  the  first 
warning  we  had  of  his  presence ;  and  the  cure,  advancing 


430  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

respectfully,  presented  me  as  bis  youug  friend,  Monsieur  de 
Tiernay. 

"  It  is  not  for  the  first  time  that  I  hear  that  name,"  said 
the  sick  man,  with  a  voice  of  singular  sweetness.  "It  is 
chronicled  in  the  annals  of  our  monarchy.  Ay,  sir,  I  knew 
that  faithful  servant  of  his  king  who  followed  his  master  to 
the  scaffold." 

"My  father,"  cried  I,  eagerly. 

"I  knew  him  well,"  continued  he;  "I  may  say,  without 
vaunting,  that  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  befriend  him,  too. 
He  made  an  imprudent  marriage ;  he  was  unfortunate  in  the 
society  his  second  wife's  family  threw  him  amongst.  They 
were  not  his  equals  in  birth,  and  far  beneath  him  in  senti- 
ment and  principle.  AVell,  well,"  sighed  he,  "this  is  not  a 
theme  for  me  to  speak  of,  nor  for  you  to  hear ;  tell  me  of 
yourself.  The  cure  says  that  you  have  had  more  than  your 
share  of  worldly  vicissitudes.  There,  sit  down,  and  let  me 
hear  your  story  from  your  own  lips." 

He  pointed  to  a  seat  at  his  side,  and  I  obeyed  him  at  once ; 
for,  somehow,  there  was  an  air  of  command  even  in  the 
gentlest  tones  of  his  voice,  and  I  felt  that  his  age  and  his 
sufferings  were  not  the  only  claims  he  possessed  to  influence 
those  around  him. 

With  all  the  brevity  in  my  power,  m}^  stor}"  lasted  till 
above  an  hour,  during  which  time  the  count  onl}^  interrupted 
me  once  or  twice  by  asking  to  which  Colonel  Mahon  I 
referred,  as  there  were  two  of  the  name ;  and  again  by 
inquiring  in  what  cii'cumstances  the  emifjre  family  were 
living  as  to  means,  and  whether  they  appeared  to  derive  an}^ 
of  their  resources  from  France.  These  were  points  I  could 
give  no  information  upon ;  and  I  plainly  perceived  that  the 
count  had  no  patience  for  a  conjecture,  and  that,  where 
positive  knowledge  failed,  he  instantly  passed  on  to  some- 
thing else.  When  I  came  to  speak  of  Ettenheim  his  atten- 
tion became  fixed,  not  suffering  the  minutest  circumstance  to 
escape  him,  and  even  asking  for  the  exact  description  of  the 
locality,  and  its  distance  from  the  towns  in  the  neighborhood. 

The  daily  journeys  of  the  prince,  too,  interested  him 
much,  and  once  or  twice  he  made  me  repeat  what  the 
l^easant   had   said   of   the    horse  being  able  to  travel  from 


THE   "COUNT   DE   MAUREPAS,"  ALIAS .  431 

Strasbourg  without  a  halt.  I  vow  it  puzzled  me  wh}^  he 
should  dwell  ou  these  poiuts  iu  preference  to  others  of  far 
more  interest ;  but  I  set  them  down  to  the  caprices  of  illness, 
and  thought  no  more  of  them.  His  daily  life,  his  conversa- 
tion, the  opinions  he  expressed  about  France,  the  questions 
he  used  to  ask,  were  all  matters  he  inquired  into  ;  till,  finall}^, 
we  came  to  the  anecdote  of  the  meditated  assassination  of 
Bonaparte.  This  he  made  me  tell  him  twice  over,  each  time 
asking  me  eagerly  whether,  by  an  effort  of  memory,  I  could 
not  recall  the  name  of  the  man  who  had  offered  his  services 
for  the  deed.  This  I  could  not ;  indeed,  I  knew  not  if  I  had 
ever  heard  it. 

"But  the  prince  rejected  the  proposal?"  said  he,  peering 
at  me  beneath  the  dark  shadow  of  his  heavy  brow;  "he 
would  not  hear  of  it  ? " 

"Of  course  not,"  cried  I;  "he  even  threatened  to 
denounce  the  man  to  the  Government." 

' '  And  do  you  think  that  he  would  have  gone  thus  far, 
sir?"  asked  he,  slowly. 

"  I  am  certain  of  it.  The  horror  and  disgust  he  expressed 
when  reciting  the  story  were  a  guarantee  for  what  he  would 
have  done." 

' '  But  yet  Bonaparte  has  been  a  dreadful  enemy  to  his 
race,"  said  the  count. 

"  It  is  not  a  Conde  can  right  himself  by  a  murder,"  said 
I,  as  calmly. 

"How  I  like  that  burst  of  generous  Royalism,  young 
man !  "  said  he,  grasping  my  hand  and  shaking  it  warmly. 
"  That  steadfast  faith  in  the  honor  of  a  Bourbon  is  the  very 
heart  and  soul  of  loyalty !  " 

Now,  although  I  was  not,  so  far  as  I  knew  of,  anything  of 
a  Royalist  (the  cause  had  neither  my  sympathy  nor  my 
wishes),  I  did  not  choose  to  disturb  the  equanimity  of  a  poor 
sick  man  by  a  needless  disclaimer,  nor  induce  a  discussion 
which  must  be  both  unprofitable  and  painful. 

"  How  did  the  fellow  propose  the  act?  Had  he  any 
accomplices,  or  was  he  alone?" 

"  I  believe  quite  alone." 

"  Of  course  suborned  by  England?  Of  that  there  can  be 
no  doubt." 


432  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"  The  prince  never  said  so." 

' '  Well,  but  it  is  clear  enough  the  man  must  have  had 
means  ;  he  travelled  by  a  very  circuitous  route  ;  he  had  come 
from  Hamburg  probably  ?  "  , 

"I  never  heard." 

"  He  must  have  done  so.  The  ports  of  Holland,  as  those 
of  France,  would  have  been  too  dangerous  for  him.  Italy  is 
out  of  the  question." 

I  owned  that  I  had  not  speculated  so  deeply  in  the  matter. 

"  It  was  strange,"  said  he,  after  a  pause,  "  that  the  duke 
never  mentioned  who  had  introduced  the  man  to  him." 

*'  He  merely  called  him  a  valued  friend." 

"In  other  words,  the  Count  d'Artois,"  said  the  count; 
"did  it  not  strike  you  so?" 

I  had  to  confess  it  had  not  occurred  to  me  to  think  so. 

"  But  reflect  a  little,"  said  he.  "  Is  there  any  other  man 
living  who  could  have  dared  to  make  such  a  proposal  but  the 
count?  Who  but  the  head  of  his  house  could  have  pre- 
sumed on  such  a  step?  No  inferior  could  have  had  the 
audacity.  It  must  have  come  from  one  so  highly  placed 
that  crime  paled  itself  down  to  a  mere  measure  of  expedi- 
ency under  the  loftiness  of  the  sanction.     What  think  you?  " 

"  I  cannot,  I  will  not  think  so,"  was  my  answer.  "  The  very 
indignation  of  the  prince's  rejection  refutes  the  supposition." 

"  AYhat  a  glorious  gift  is  unsuspectfulness,"  said  he,  feel- 
ingly. "  I  am  a  rich  man,  and  you  I  believe  are  not  so  ;  and 
yet  I  'd  give  all  my  wealth  —  ay,  ten  times  told  —  not  for  your 
vigor  of  health,  not  for  the  lightness  of  your  heart  nor  the 
elasticity  of  your  spirits,  but  for  that  one  small  quality, 
defect  though  it  be,  that  makes  j^ou  trustful  and  credulous." 

I  believe  I  would  just  as  soon  that  the  old  gentleman  had 
thought  fit  to  compliment  me  upon  any  other  quality.  Of 
all  my  acquisitions  there  was  not  one  I  was  so  vain  of  as  my 
knowledge  of  life  and  character.  I  had  seen,  as  I  thought, 
so  much  of  life !  I  had  peeped  at  all  ranks  and  conditions 
of  men,  and  it  was  rather  hard  to  find  an  old  country  gentle- 
man, a  Seigneur  de  Village,  calling  me  credulous  and 
unsuspecting ! 

I  was  much  more  pleased  when  he  told  the  cure  that  a 
supper  was  ready  for  us  in  the  adjoining  room,  at  which  he 


THE   "COUNT   DE   MAUREPAS,"   ALIAS .  433 

begged  we  would  excuse  his  absence ;  and  truly  a  most 
admirable  little  meal  it  was,  and  served  with  great  elegance. 

''The  count  expects  you  to  stop  here;  there  is  a  chamber 
prepared  for  you,"  said  the  cure  as  we  took  our  seats  at 
table.  "  He  has  evidently  taken  a  fancy  to  you.  I  thought, 
indeed  I  was  quite  certain,  he  would.  Who  can  tell  what 
good  fortune  this  chance  meeting  may  lead  to,  Monsieur 
Maurice  !  A  voire  sante,  mon  cher/  "  cried  he,  as  he  clinked 
his  champagne  glass  against  mine,  and  I  at  last  began  to 
think  that  destiny  was  about  to  smile  on  me. 

"You  should  see  his  chateau  in  the  Ardeche ;  this  is 
nothing  to  it !  There  is  a  forest,  too,  of  native  oak,  and  a 
chasse  such  as  royalty  never  owned !  " 

Mine  were  delightful  dreams  that  night ;  but  I  was  sorely 
disappointed  on  waking  to  find  that  Laura  was  not  riding  at 
my  side  through  a  forest-alley,  while  a  crowd  of  piqneurs 
and  huntsmen  galloped  to  and  fro,  making  the  air  vibrate 
with  their  joyous  bugles.  Still,  I  opened  my  eyes  in  a  richly- 
furnished  chamber,  while  a  lacquais  handed  me  my  coffee  on 
a  silver  stand  and  in  a  cup  of  costliest  Sevres. 


28 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 


A    FOREST    RIDE. 


While  I  was  dressing,  a  note  was  handed  to  me  from  the 
cwre,  apologizing  for  his  departure  without  seeing  me,  and 
begging  as  a  great  favor  that  I  would  not  leave  the 
chateau  till  his  return.  He  said  that  the  count's  spirits  had 
benefited  greatly  by  our  agreeable  converse,  and  that  he 
requested  me  to  be  his  guest  for  some  time  to  come.  The 
postscript  added  a  suggestion  that  I  should  write  down  some 
of  the  particulars  of  my  visit  to  Ettenheim,  but  particularly 
of  that  conversation  alluding  to  the  meditated  assassination  of 
Bonaparte. 

There  were  many  points  in  the  arrangement  which  I  did 
not  like.  To  begin,  I  had  no  fancy  whatever  for  the  condi- 
tion of  a  dependant,  and  such  my  poverty  would  at  once 
stamp  me ;  secondly,  I  was  averse  to  this  frequent  inter- 
course with  men  of  the  Royalist  party,  whose  restless 
character  and  unceasing  schemes  were  opposed  to  all  the 
principles  of  those  I  had  served  under ;  and,  finally,  I  was 
growing  impatient  under  the  listless  vacuity  of  a  life  that 
gave  no  occupation  nor  opened  any  view  for  the  future.  I 
sat  down  to  breakfast  in  a  mood  very  little  in  unison  with 
the  material  enjoyments  around  me.  The  meal  was  all  tho,t 
could  tempt  appetite ;  and  the  view  from  the  open  window 
displayed  a  beautiful  flower-garden,  imperceptibly  fading 
away  into  a  maze  of  ornamental  planting,  which  was  backed 
again  by  a  deep  forest,  the  well-known  wood  of  Belleville. 
Still  I  ate  on  sullenly,  sccirce  noticing  any  of  the  objects 
around  me.  "  I  will  see  the  count  and  take  leave  of  him," 
thought  I,  suddenly;  "  I  cannot  be  his  guest  without  sacri- 
ficing feeling  in  a  dozen  ways." 

"At  what  hour  does  Monsieur  rise?"  asked  I  of  the 
obsequious  valet  who  waited  behind  my  chaii*. 


A  FOREST   RIDE.  435 

"  UsiialW  at  three  or  four  in  the  afternoon,  sir ;  but  to-day 
he  has  desired  nie  to  make  his  excuses  to  you.  There  will 
be  a  consultation  of  doctors  here ;  and  the  likelihood  is  that 
he  may  not  leave  his  chamber." 

"Will  you  convey  my  respectful  compliments,  then,  to 
him,  and  my  regrets  that  I  had  not  seen  him  before  leaving 
the  chateau  ?  " 

"  The  count  charged  me,  sir,  to  entreat  your  remaining 
here  till  he  had  seen  you.  He  said  you  had  done  him  infinite 
service  abread}^,  and  indeed  it  is  long  since  he  has  passed  a 
night  in  such  tranquillity." 

There  are  few  slight  circumstances  which  impress  a 
stranger  more  favorably  than  any  semblance  of  devotion 
on  the  part  of  a  servant  to  his  master.  The  friendship  of 
those  above  one  in  life  is  easier  to  acquire  than  the  attach- 
ment of  those  beneath.  Love  is  a  plant  whose  tendrils 
strive  ever  upwards.  I  could  not  help  feeling  struck  at  the 
man's  manner  as  he  spoke  these  few  words  ;  and  insensibly  my 
mind  reverted  to  the  master  who  had  inspired  such  sentiments. 

"My  master  gave  orders,  sir,"  continued  he,  "that  we 
should  do  everything  possible  to  contribute  to  your  wishes ; 
that  the  carriage,  or,  if  you  prefer  them,  saddle-horses,  should 
be  ready  at  any  hour  you  ordered.  The  wood  h?ls  a  variety 
of  beautiful  excursions ;  there  is  a  lake,  too,  about  two 
leagues  away,  and  the  ruins  of  Monterraye  are  also  wortii 
seeing." 

"  If  I  had  not  engagements  in  Paris,"  muttered  I,  while  I 
affected  to  mumble  over  the  conclusion  of  the  sentence  to 
myself. 

"Monsieur  has  seldom  done  a  greater  kindness  than  this 
will  be,"  added  he,  respectfully;  'M)ut  if  Monsieur's 
business  could  be  deferred  for  a  day  or  two,  without 
inconvenience  —  " 

"  Perhaps  that  might  be  managed,"  said  T,  starting  up, 
and  walking  to  the  window,  when,  for  the  first  time,  the 
glorious  prospect  revealed  itself  before  me.  How  delicious, 
after  all,  would  be  a  few  hours  of  such  a  retreat  I  a 
morning  loitered  away  in  that  beautiful  garden,  and  then 
along  ramble  through  the  dark  wood  till  sunset!  Oh  if 
Laura  were  but  here !    if  she  could  be  my  companion  along 


436  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

those  leafy  alleys  I  If  not  with,  I  can  at  least  think  of 
her,  thought  I ;  seek  out  spots  she  would  love  to  linger  in, 
and  points  of  view  she  would  enjoy  with  all  a  painter's 
zest.  And  this  poor  count,  with  all  his  riches,  could  not 
derive  in  a  whole  lifetime  the  enjo^^ment  that  a  few  brief 
hours  would  yield  to  us !  So  is  it  almost  ever  in  this 
world,  — to  one  man  the  appliances,  to  another  the  faculties, 
for  enjo3'ment. 

"I  am  so  glad  Monsieur  has  consented,"  said  the  valet, 
joyously. 

"  Did  I  say  so?     I  don't  know  that  I  said  anything." 

"The  count  will  be  so  gratified,"  added  he;  and  hurried 
away  to  convey  the  tidings. 

Well,  be  it  so.  Heaven  knows  my  business  in  Paris  will 
scarcely  suffer  by  my  absence,  ni}^  chief  occupation  there 
being  to  cheat  away  the  hours  till  meal-time ;  it  is  an  occu- 
pation I  can  easily  resume  a  few  days  hence.  I  took  a  book, 
and  strolled  out  into  the  garden ;  but  I  could  not  read. 
There  is  a  gush  of  pleasure  felt  at  times  from  the  most 
familiar  objects  which  the  most  complicated  machinery  of 
enjo^mient  often  fails  to  equal ;  and  now  the  odor  of  moss- 
roses  and  geraniums,  the  rich  perfume  of  orange-flowers,  the 
plash  of  fountains,  and  the  hum  of  the  'summer  insects 
steeped  my  mind  in  delight,  and  I  lay  there  in  a  dream  of 
bliss  that  was  like  enchantment.  I  suppose  I  must  have 
fallen  asleep,  for  my  thoughts  took  every  form  of  wildness 
and  incoherency.  Ireland,  the  campaign,  the  bay  of  Genoa, 
the  rugged  height  of  Kuff stein,  all  passed  before  my  mind 
peopled  with  images  foreign  to  all  theii'  incidents.  It  was 
late  in  the  afternoon  that  I  aroused  myself,  and  remem- 
bered where  I  was ;  the  shadows  of  the  dark  forest  were 
stretching  over  the  plain,  and  I  determined  on  a  ride  beneath 
their  mellow  shade.  As  if  in  anticipation  of  my  wishes,  the 
horses  were  already  saddled,  and  a  groom  stood  awaiting  my 
orders.  "Oh  what  a  glorious  thing  it  is  to  be  rich!" 
thought  I, 'as  I  mounted;  "from  what  an  eminence  does 
the  wealthy  man  view  life  !  No  petty  cares  nor  calculations 
mar  the  conceptions  of  his  fanc}^  His  will,  like  his  imagi- 
nation, wanders  free  and  unfettered."  And  so  thinking,  I 
dashed  spurs  into  my  horse  and  plunged  into  the  dense 
wood. 


A  FOREST  RIDE.  437 

Perhaps  I  was  better  mounted  than  the  groom,  or  perhaps 
the  man  was  scarcely  accustomed  to  such  impetuosity^ 
Whatever  the  reason,  I  was  soon  out  of  sight  of  liim. 
The  trackless  grass  of  the  alley  and  its  noiseless  turf  made 
pursuit  ditticult  in  a  spot  where  the  paths  crossed  and  re- 
crossed  in  a  hundred  different  directions ;  and  so  I  rode  on 
for  miles  and  miles  without  seeing  more  of  my  follower. 

Forest  riding  is  particularly  seductive ;  you  are  insensibl}^ 
led  on  to  see  where  this  alley  will  open,  or  how  that  patli 
will  terminate.  Some  of  the  spirit  of  discovery  seems  to  seal 
its  attractions  to  the  wild  and  devious  track,  untrodden  as  it 
looks ;  and  you  feel  all  the  charm  of  adventure  as  you 
advance.  The  silence,  too,  is  most  striking;  the  noiseless 
footfall  of  the  horse  and  the  unbroken  stillness  add  inde- 
scribable charm  to  the  scene,  and  the  least  imaginative 
cannot  fail  to  weave  fancies  and  fictions  as  he  goes. 

Near  as  it  was  to  a  great  city,  not  a  single  rider  crossed 
my  path ;  not  even  a  peasant  did  I  meet.  A  stray  bundle  of 
fagots,  bound  and  ready  to  be  carried  away,  showed  that 
the  axe  of  the  woodman  had  been  heard  within  the  solitude ; 
but  not  another  trace  told  that  human  footstep  had  ever 
pressed  the  sward. 

Although  still  a  couple  of  hours  from  sunset,  the  shade  of 
the  wood  was  dense  enough  to  make  the  path  appear  uncer- 
tain, and  I  was  obliged  to  ride  more  cautiously  than  before. 
I  had  thought  that  by  steadily  pursuing  one  straight  track  I 
should  at  last  gain  the  open  country,  and  easily  find  some 
road  that  would  reconduct  me  to  the  chAteau ;  but  now  I  saw 
no  signs  of  this.  The  alley  was,  to  all  appearance,  exactly 
as  I  found  it,  —  miles  before.  A  long  aisle  of  beech-trees 
stretched  away  in  front  and  behind  me ;  a  short,  grassy 
turf  was  beneath  my  feet,  —  and  not  an  object  to  tell  me  how 
far  I  had  come,  or  whither  I  was  tending.  If  now  and  then 
another  road  crossed  the  path,  it  was  in  all  respects  like  this 
one.  This  was  puzzling;  and  to  add  to  my  difficulty,  I 
suddenly  remembered  that  I  had  never  thought  of  learning 
the  name  of  the  chiiteau,  and  well  knew  that  to  ask  for  it 
as  the  residence  of  the  Count  de  Maurepas  would  be  a  per- 
fect absurdity.  There  was  sometliing  so  ludicrous  in  the 
situation  that  I  could  not    refrain   from  laughing    at    first; 


438  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

but  a  moment's  reconsideration  made  me  regard  the  incident 
more  gravely.  In  what  a  position  should  I  stand,  if  unable 
to  discover  the  chateau !  The  cure  might  have  left  Paris 
before  I  could  reach  it ;  all  clew  to  the  count  might  thus  be 
lost ;  and  although  these  were  but  improbable  circumstances, 
they  came  now  very  forcibly  before  me,  and  gave  me  serious 
uneasiness. 

"I  have  been  so  often  in  false  positions  in  life,  so  fre- 
quentl}^  implicated  where  no  real  blame  could  attach  to  me, 
that  1  shall  not  be  in  the  least  surprised  if  I  be  arrested  as 
a  horse-stealer !  " 

The  night  now  began  to  fall  rapidly,  so  that  I  was  obliged 
to  proceed  at  a  slow  pace ;  and  at  length,  as  the  wood 
seemed  to  thicken,  I  was  forced  to  get  off,  and  walk  beside 
m}^  horse.  I  have  often  found  myself  in  situations  of  real 
peril,  with  far  less  anxiety  than  I  now  felt;  my  position 
seemed  at  the  time  inexplicable  and  absurd.  "  I  suppose," 
thought  I,  "that  no  man  was  ever  lost  in  the  wood  of 
Belleville ;  he  must  find  his  way  out  of  it  sooner  or  later ; 
and  then  there  can  be  no  great  difficulty  in  returning  to 
Paris."  This  was  about  the  extent  of  the  comfort  I  could 
afford  myself;  for,  once  back  in  the  capital,  I  could  not 
speculate  on  a  single  step  further. 

I  was  at  last  so  weary  with  the  slow  and  cautious  pro- 
gress I  was  condemned  to  that  I  half  determined  to  picket 
m}^  horse  to  a  tree  and  lie  down  to  sleep  till  daylight.  While 
I  sought  out  a  convenient  spot  for  my  bivouac,  a  bright 
twinkling  light,  like  a  small  star,  caught  my  eye.  Twice  it 
appeared  and  vanished  again,  so  that  I  was  well  assured  of 
its  being  real,  and  no  phantom  of  my  now  over-excited  brain. 
It  appeared  to  proceed  from  the  very  densest  part  of  the 
wood,  and  whither,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  no  path  conducted. 
As  I  listened  to  catch  any  sounds  I  again  caught  sight  of  the 
faint  star,  which  now  seemed  at  a  short  distance  from  the 
road  where  I  stood.  Fastening  my  horse  to  a  branch,  I 
advanced  directly  through  the  brushwood  for  about  a  hun- 
dred yards,  when  I  came  to  a  small  open  space,  in  which 
stood  one  of  those  modest  cottages,  of  rough  timber,  wherein 
at  certain  seasons  the  gamekeepers  take  refuge.  A  low, 
square,  log  hut,  with  a  single  door  and  an  unglazed  window, 


A  FOREST   RIDE.  439 

comprised  the  whole  edifice,  being  one  of  the  humblest  even 
of  its  humble  kind  I  had  ever  seen.  Stealing  cautiously  to 
the  window,  I  peeped  in.  On  a  stone,  in  the  middle  of  the 
earthen  floor,  a  small  iron  lamp  stood,  which  threw  a  faint 
and  fickle  light  around.  There  was  no  furniture  of  any  kind, 
nothing  that  bespoke  the  place  as  inhabited ;  and  it  was  only 
as  I  continued  to  gaze  that  I  detected  the  figure  of  a  man, 
who  seemed  to  be  sleeping  on  a  heap  of  dried  leaves  in  one 
corner  of  the  hovel.  I  own  that,  with  all  my  anxiet}^  to  find 
a  guide,  I  began  to  feel  some  scruples  about  obtruding  on 
the  sleeper's  privacy.  He  was  evidently  no  garde  de  chasse, 
who  are  a  well-to-do  sort  of  folk,  being  usually  retired  sous- 
officiers  of  the  army.  He  might  be  a  poacher,  a  robber,  or 
perhaps  a  dash  of  both  together,  —  a  trade  I  had  often  heard 
of  as  being  resorted  to  by  the  most  reckless  and  abandoned 
of  the  population  of  Paris,  when  their  crimes  and  their 
haunts  became  too  well  known   in  the  capital. 

I  peered  eagerly  through  the  chamber  to  see  if  he  were 
armed ;  but  not  a  weapon  of  any  kind  was  to  be  seen.  I 
next  sought  to  discover  if  he  were  quite  alone ;  and  although 
one  side  of  the  hovel  was  hidden  from  my  view,  I  was  well 
assured  that  he  had  no  comrade.  "  Come,"  said  I  to  myself, 
"  man  to  man,  if  it  should  come  to  a  struggle,  is  fair  enough  ; 
and  the  chances  are,  I  shall  be  able  to  defend  myself." 

His  sleep  was  sound  and  heavy,  like  that  after  fatigue ; 
so  that  I  thought  it  would  be  easy  for  me  to  enter  the  hovel 
and  secure  his  arms,  if  he  had  such,  before  he  should  awake. 
r  may  seem  to  my  reader,  all  this  time,  to  have  been  inspired 
with  an  undue  amount  of  caution  and  prudence,  considering 
how  evenly  we  were  matched ;  but  I  would  remind  him  that 
it  was  a  period  w^hen  the  most  dreadful  crimes  were  of  daily 
occurrence.  Xot  a  night  went  over  without  some  terrible 
assassination ;  and  a  number  of  escaped  galley-slaves  were 
known  to  be  at  large  in  the  suburbs  and  outskirts  of  the 
capital.  These  men,  under  the  slightest  provocation,  never 
hesitated  at  murder;  for  their  lives  were  already  forfeited, 
and  they  scrupled  at  nothing  w^hich  offered  a  chance  of 
escape.  To  add  to  the  terror  their  atrocities  excited,  there 
was  a  rumor  current  at  the  time  that  the  Government  itself 
made  use  of  these  wretches  for  its  own  secret  acts  of  van- 


440  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

geance ;  and  many  implicitly  believed  that  the  dark  assassi- 
nations of  the  Temple  had  no  other  agency.  I  do  not  mean 
to  say  that  these  fears  were  well  founded,  or  that  I  myself 
partook  of  them ;  but  such  were  the  reports  commonly  cir- 
culated, and  the  impunity  of  crime  certainly  favored  the 
impression. 

I  know  not  if  this  will  serve  as  an  apology  for  the  circum- 
spection of  my  proceeding,  as  cautiously  pushing  the  door, 
inch  by  inch,  I  at  length  threw  it  wide  open.  Not  the 
slightest  sound  escaped  as  I  did  so  ;  and  yet,  certainly  before 
my  hand  quitted  the  latch,  the  sleeper  had  sprung  to  his 
knees,  and  with  his  dark  eyes  glaring  wildly  at  me  crouched 
like  a  beast  about  to  rush  upon  an  enemy.  His  attitude  and 
his  whole  appearance  at  that  moment  are  j^et  before  me. 
Long  black  hair  fell  in  heavy  masses  at  either  side  of  his 
head;  his  face  was  pale,  haggard,  and  hunger-stricken;  a 
deep,  drooping  mustache  descended  from  below  his  chin, 
and  almost  touched  his  collar-bones,  which  were  starting 
from  beneath  the  skin ;  a  ragged  cloak,  that  covered  him  as 
he  lay,  had  fallen  off,  and  showed  that  a  worn  shirt  and  a 
pair  of  coarse  linen  trousers  were  all  his  clothing.  Such  a 
picture  of  privation  and  misery  I  never  looked  upon  before 
nor  since. 

"  Qui  va  la?  "  cried  he,  sternly,  and  with  the  voice  of  one 
not  unused  to  command  ;  and  although  the  summons  showed 
his  soldier  training,  his  condition  of  wretchedness  suggested 
deep  misgivings. 

"  Qui  va  la?"  shouted  he,  again,  louder  and  more  deter- 
minedly. 

"A  friend  —  perhaps  a  comrade,"  said  I,  boldly. 

"Advance,  comrade,  and  give  the  countersign,"  replied 
he,  rapidly,  and  like  one  repeating  a  phrase  of  routine ;  and 
then,  ^  as  if  suddenly  remembering  himself,  he  added,  with  a 
low  sigh,  "There  is  none!  "  His  arms  dropped  heavily  as 
he  spoke,  and  he  fell  back  against  the  wall,  with  his  head 
drooping  on  his  chest. 

There  was  something  so  unutterably  forlorn  in  his  look, 
as  he  sat  thus,  that  all  apprehension  of  personal  danger 
from  him  left  me  at  the  moment,  and  advancing  frankly  I 
told  him  how  I  had  lost  my  way  in  the  wood,  and  by  a  mere 


A  FOREST  RIDE.  441 

accident  chanced  to  descry  his  light  as  I  wandered  along  in 
the  gloom. 

I  do  not  know  if  he  understood  me  at  first,  for  he  gazed 
half  vacantly  at  my  ^face  while  I  was  speaking,  and  often 
stealthily  peered  around  to  see  if  others  were  coming ;  so 
that  I  had  to  repeat  more  than  once  that  I  was  perfectly 
alone.  That  the  poor  fellow  was  insane  seemed  but  too 
probable ;  the  restless  activity  of  his  wild  eye,  the  suspicious 
watchfulness  of  his  glances,  all  looked  like  madness ;  and  I 
thought  that  he  had  probably  made  his  escape  from  some 
military  hospital,  and  concealed  himself  within  the  recesses 
of  the  forest.  But  even  these  signs  of  overwrought  excite- 
ment began  to  subside  soon ;  and,  as  though  the  momentary 
effort  at  vigilance  had  been  too  much  for  his  strength,  he 
now  drew  his  cloak  about  him,  and  lay  down  once  more. 

I  handed  him  my  brandy-flask,  which  still  contained  a 
little,  and  he  raised  it  to  his  lips  with  a  slight  nod  of  recog- 
nition. Invigorated  by  the  stimulant,  he  sipped  again  and 
again,  but  always  cautiously,  and  with  prudent  reserve. 

"  You  have  been  a  soldier?"  said  I,  taking  my  seat  at  his 
side. 

"  I  am  a  soldier,"  said  he,  with  a  strong  emphasis  on  the 
verb. 

"  I  too  have  served,"  said  I ;  "  although,  probably,  neither 
as  long  nor  as  creditably  as  you  have." 

He  looked  at  me  fixedly  for  a  second  or  two,  and  then 
dropped  his  eyes  without  a  reply. 

"  You  were  probably  with  the  Army  of  the  Meuse?  "  said 
I,  hazarding  the  guess,  from  remembering  how  many  of  that 
army  had  been  invalided  by  the  terrible  attacks  of  ague  con- 
tracted in  North  Holland. 

"I  served  on  the  Rhine,"  said  he,  briefly;  "but  I  made 
the  campaign  of  Jemappes,  too.  I  sei'\^ed  the  king  also,  — 
King  Louis,"  cried  he,  sternly.  "  Is  that  avowal  candid 
enough,  or  do  you  want  more?" 

Another  Royalist,  thought  I,  with  a  sigh.  Whichever  way 
I  turn  they  meet  me ;  the  very  ground  seems  to  give  them 
up. 

"  And  could  you  find  no  better  trade  than  that  of  a 
mouchard  ?  "  asked  he,  sneeringly. 


4J:2  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

"  I  am  not  a  mouchard ;  I  never  was  one.  I  am  a  soldier 
like  yourself,  and  mayhap,  if  all  were  to  be  told,  scarcely  a 
more  fortunate  one." 

"Dismissed  the  service  —  and  for  what?"  asked  he, 
bluntly. 

"  If  not  broke,  at  least  not  employed,"  said  I,  bitterly. 

"A  Royalist?" 

"  Not  the  least  of  one,  but  suspected." 

"Just  so.  Your  letters,  your  private  papers,  ransacked 
and  brought  in  evidence  against  you.  Your  conversations 
with  your  intimates  noted  down  and  attested;  every  word 
you  dropped  in  a  moment  of  disappointment  or  anger, 
every  chance  phrase  you  uttered  when  provoked,  all  quoted ; 
was  n't  that  it  ?  " 

As  he  spoke  this,  with  a  rapid  and  almost  impetuous 
utterance,  I  for  the  first  time  noticed  that  both  the  ex- 
pressions and  the  accent  implied  breeding  and  education. 
Not  all  his  vehemence  could  hide  the  evidences  of  former 
cultivation. 

"  How  comes  it,"  asked  I,  eagerly,  "  that  such  a  man  as 
you  are  is  to  be  found  thus  ?  You  certainly  did  not  always 
serve  in  the  ranks  ?  " 

"  I  had  my  grade,"  was  his  short,  dry  reply. 

"  You  were  a  quarter-master,  perhaps  a  sous-lieutenant?  " 
said  I,  hoping  by  the  flattery  of  the  surmise  to  lead  him  to 
talk  further. 

"  I  was  the  colonel  of  a  dragoon  regiment,"  said  he, 
sternly  ;  ' '  and  that  neither  the  least  brave  nor  the  least  dis- 
tinguished in  the  French  army." 

Ah,  thought  I,  my  good  fellow,  you  have  shot  your  bolt 
too  high  this  time ;  and  in  a  careless,  easy  way  I  asked, 
' '  What  might  have  been  the  number  of  your  corps  ?  " 

"  How  can  it  concern  you?  "  said  he,  with  a  savage  vehe- 
mence. "You  say  that  you  are  not  a  spy.  To  what  end 
these  questions  ?  As  it  is,  you  have  made  this  hovel,  which 
has  been  my  shelter  for  some  weeks  back,  no  longer  of  any 
service  to  me.  I  will  not  be  tracked.  I  will  not  suffer  espi- 
onage, by  Heaven  I  "  cried  he,  as  he  dashed  his  clenched  fist 
against  the  ground  beside  him.  His  eyes,  as  he  spoke, 
glared  with  all  the  wildness  of  insanity,  and  great  drops  of 
sweat  hung  upon  his  damp  forehead. 


A  FOREST  RIDE.  443 

"  Is  it  too  much,"  continued  he,  with  all  the  vehemence  of 
passion,  —  'Ms  it  too  much  that  I  was  master  here?  Are 
these  walls  too  luxurious?  Is  there  the  sign  of  foreign  gold 
in  this  tasteful  furniture  and  the  splendor  of  these  hangings? 
Or  is  this,"  and  he  stretched  out  his  lean  and  naked  arms 
as  he  spoke,  —  "is  this  the  garb,  is  this  the  garb  of  a  man 
who  can  draw  at  will  on  the  coffers  of  royalty?  Ay,"  cried 
he,  with  a  wild  laugh,  "  if  this  is  the  price  of  my  treachery, 
the  treason  might  well  be  pardoned." 

I  did  all  I  could  to  assuage  the  violence  of  his  manner. 
I  talked  to  him  calmly  and  soberly  of  myself  and  of  him, 
repeating  over  and  over  the  assurance  that  I  had  neither  the 
will  nor  the  way  to  injure  him.  "  You  may  be  poor,"  said  I, 
''  and  yet  scarcely  poorer  than  I  am,  —  friendless,  and  have 
as  many  to  care  for  you  as  I  have.  Believe  me,  comrade, 
save  in  the  matter  of  a  few  years  the  less  on  one  side,  and 
some  services  the  more  on  the  other,  there  is  little  to  choose 
between  us." 

These  few  words,  wrung  from  me  in  sorrowful  sincerity, 
seemed  to  do  more  than  all  I  had  said  previously,  and  he 
moved  the  lamp  a  little  to  one  side  that  he  might  have  a 
better  view  of  me  as  I  sat ;  and  thus  we  remained  for  several 
minutes  staring  steadfastly  at  each  other,  without  a  word 
spoken  on  either  side.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  sought  in  that 
face  livid  and  shrunk  by  famine,  in  that  straggling  matted 
hair,  and  that  figure  enveloped  in  rags  for  any  traces  of 
former  condition.  Whatever  might  once  have  been  his  place 
in  society,  now  he  seemed  the  very  lowest  of  that  miserable 
tribe  whose  lives  are  at  once  the  miracle  and  shame  of  our 
century. 

"  Except  that  my  senses  are  always  playing  me  false," 
said  he,  as  he  passed  his  hand  across  his  eyes,  "  I  could  say 
that  I  have  seen  your  face  before.     AVhat  was  3'our  corps  ?  " 

"The  Ninth  Hussars,  —  'the  Tapageurs,'  as  they  called 
them  " 

"  "^"hen  did  you  join,  and  where?  "  said  he,  with  an  eager- 
ness that  surprised  me. 

"At  Nancy,"  said  I,  calmly. 

"You  were  there  with  the  advanced  guard  of  Moreau 's 
corps,"  said  he,  hastily;  "  you  followed  the  regiment  to  the 
Moselle?" 


444  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

"  How  do  you  know  all  this?  "  asked  I,  in  amazement. 

"Now  for  your  name,  —  tell  me  your  name,"  cried  he, 
grasping  my  hand  in  both  of  his.  ''And  I  charge  you  by 
all  you  care  for  here  or  hereafter,  no  deception  with  me ! 
It  is  not  a  head  that  has  been  tried  like  mine  can  bear  a 
cheat." 

"  I  have  no  object  in  deceiving  you;  nor  am  I  ashamed 
to  say  who  I  am,"  replied  I.  "My  name  is  Tiernay, — 
Maurice  Tierna3^" 

The  word  was  but  out  when  the  poor  fellow  threw  him- 
self forward,  and  grasping  my  hands  fell  upon  and  kissed 
them. 

"  So,  then,"  cried  he,  passionately,  "  I  am  not  friendless; 
I  am  not  utterly  deserted  in  life,  —  you  are  yet  left  to  me, 
my  dear  boy !  " 

This  burst  of  feeling  convinced  me  that  he  was  deranged ; 
and  I  was  speculating  in  my  mind  how  best  to  make  my 
escape  from  him,  when  he  pushed  back  the  long  and  tangled 
hair  from  his  face,  and  staring  wildly  at  me,  said,  — 

"  You  know  me  now,  don't  you?  Oh,  look  again,  Maurice, 
and  do  not  let  me  think  that  I  am  forgotten  by  all  the 
world !  " 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  cried  I,  "it  is  Colonel  Mahon  !  " 

"Ay,  '  Le  Beau  Mahon,'"  said  he,  with  a  burst  of  wild 
laughter,  —  "  Le  Beau  Mahon,  as  the}"  used  to  call  me  long 
ago.  Is  this  a  reverse  of  fortune,  I  ask  you?"  and  he  held 
out  the  ragged  remnants  of  his  miserable  clothes.  "  I  have 
not  worn  shoes  for  nigh  a  month.  I  have  tasted  food  but 
once  in  the  last  thu'ty  hours.  I,  that  have  led  French  sol- 
diers to  the  charge  full  fifty  times,  up  to  the  very  batteries 
of  the  enemy,  am  reduced  to  hide  and  skulk  from  place  to 
place  like  a  felon,  trembling  at  the  clank  of  a  gendarme's 
boot  as  never  the  thunder  of  an  enemy's  squadron  made  me. 
Think  of  the  persecution  that  has  brought  me  to  this,  and 
made  me  a  beggar  and  a  coward  together  I  " 

A  gush  of  tears  burst  from  him  at  these  words,  and  he 
sobbed  for  several  minutes  like  a  child. 

Whatever  might  have  been  the  original  source  of  his  mis- 
fortunes, I  had  very  little  doubt  that  now  his  mind  had  been 
shaken  by  their  influence,  and  that  calamity  had  deranged 


^ 


A  FOREST  RIDE.  445 

him.  The  flighty  uncertainty  of  his  manner,  the  incoherent 
rapidity  with  which  he  passed  from  one  toi)ic  to  another, 
increased  with  his  excitement,  and  he  passed  alternately  from 
the  wildest  expressions  of  delight  at  our  meeting  to  the  most 
heart-rending  descriptions  of  his  own  sufferings.  By  great 
patience  and  some  ingenuity,  I  learned  that  he  had  taken 
refuge  in  the  wood  of  Belleville,  where  the  kindness  of  an 
old  soldier  of  his  own  brigade  —  now  a  garde  de  chasse  — 
had  saved  him  from  starvation.  Jacques  Caillon  was  con- 
tinually alluded  to  in  his  narrative.  It  was  Jacques  sheltered 
him  when  he  came  first  to  Belleville.  Jacques  had  afforded 
him  a  refuge  in  the  different  huts  of  the  forest,  supplying 
him  with  food,  —  acts  not  alone  of  benevolence,  but  of 
daring  courage,  as  Mahon  continually  asserted.  "If  it  were 
but  known,  they  'd  give  him  a  peloton  and  eight  paces." 
The  theme  of  Jacques'  heroism  was  so  engrossing  that  he 
could  not  turn  from  it ;  every  little  incident  of  his  kindness, 
every  stratagem  of  his  inventive  good  nature,  he  dwelt  upon 
with  eager  delight,  and  seemed  half  to  forget  his  own  sor- 
rows in  recounting  the  services  of  his  benefactor.  I  saw 
that  it  would  be  fruitless  to  ask  for  any  account  of  his  past 
calamity,  or  by  what  series  of  mischances  he  had  fallen  so 
low.  I  saw  —  I  will  own  with  some  chagrin  —  that  with 
the  mere  selfishness  of  misfortune,  he  could  not  speak  of 
anything  save  what  bore  upon  his  own  daily  life,  and  totally 
forgot  me  and  all  about  me. 

The  most  relentless  persecution  seemed  to  follow  him  from 
place  to  place.  Wherever  he  went,  fresh  spies  started  on  his 
track,  and  the  history  of  his  escapes  was  unending.  The 
very  fagot-cutters  of  the  forest  were  in  league  against  him, 
and  the  high  price  offered  for  his  capture  had  drawn  many 
into  the  pursuit.  It  was  curious  to  mark  the  degree  of  self- 
importance  all  these  recitals  imparted,  and  how  the  poor 
fellow,  starving  and  almost  naked  as  he  was,  rose  into  all  the 
imagined  dignity  of  martyrdom  as  he  told  of  his  sorrows. 
If  he  ever  asked  a  question  about  Paris,  it  was  to  know  what 
people  said  of  himself  and  of  his  fortunes.  He  was  thoroughly 
convinced  that  Bonaparte's  thoughts  were  far  more  occupied 
about  him  than  on  tliat  emi)ire  now  so  nearly  in  his  grasp ; 
and  he  continued  to  repeat  with  a  proud  delight,  "  He  has 


446  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

caught  them  all  but  me  !  I  am  the  only  one  who  has  escaped 
him  !  "  These  few  words  suggested  to  me  the  impression  that 
Mahon  had  been  engaged  in  some  plot  or  conspiracy ;  but  of 
what  nature,  how  composed,  or  how  discovered,  it  was  im- 
possible to  arrive  at. 

"  There  !  "  said  he,  at  last,  "  there  is  the  dawn  breaking  ! 
I  must  be  off.  I  must  now  make  for  the  thickest  part  of  the 
wood  till  nightfall.  There  are  hiding-places  there  known 
to  none  save  myself.  The  bloodhounds  cannot  track  me 
where  I  go." 

His  impatience  became  now  extreme  ;  every  instant  seemed 
full  of  peril  to  him  now,  every  rustling  leaf  and  every  wav- 
ing branch  a  warning.  I  was  unable  to  satisfy  myself  how 
far  this  might  be  well-founded  terror,  or  a  vague  and  cause- 
less fear.  At  one  moment  I  inclined  to  this,  at  another  to 
the  opposite,  impression.  Assuredly  nothing  could  be  more 
complete  than  the  precautions  he  took  against  discovery. 
His  lamp  was  concealed  in  the  hollow  of  a  tree ;  the  leaves 
that  formed  his  bed  he  scattered  and  strewed  carelessly  on 
every  side  ;  he  erased  even  the  foot  tracks  on  the  clay ;  and 
then  gathering  up  his  tattered  cloak,  prepared  to  set  out. 

"  When  are  we  to  meet  again,  and  where?  "  said  I,  grasp- 
ing his  hand. 

He  stopped  suddenly,  and  passed  his  hand  over  his  brow, 
as  if  reflecting.  "You  must  see  Caillon ;  .Jacques  will  tell 
you  all,"  said  he,  solemnly.  "  Good-by.  Do  not  follow  me ; 
I  will  not  be  tracked  ;  "  and  with  a  proud  gesture  of  his  hand 
he  motioned  me  back. 

Poor  fellow !  I  saw  that  any  attempt  to  reason  with  him 
would  be  in  vain  at  such  a  moment;  and  determining  to 
seek  out  the  garde  de  chasse,  I  turned  away  slowly  and 
sorrowfully. 

"  What  have  been  my  vicissitudes  of  fortune  compared  to 
his?  "  thought  I.  "  The  proud  colonel  of  a  cavalry  regiment, 
a  beggar  and  an  outcast !  "  The  great  puzzle  to  me  was 
whether  insanity  had  been  the  cause  or  the  consequence  of 
his  misfortunes.  Caillon  will,  perhaps,  be  able  to  tell  his 
story,  said  I  to  myself ;  and  thus  ruminating,  I  returned 
to  where  I  had  picketed  my  horse  three  hours  before. 
My  old  dragoon  experiences  had  taught  me  how  to  ' '  hobble  " 


A  FOREST  RIDE.  447 

a  horse,  as  it  is  called,  by  passing  the  bridle  beneath  the 
counter  before  tying  it,  and  so  I  found  him  just  as  1  had 
left  him. 

The  sun  was  now  up,  and  I  could  see  that  a  wide  track  led 
off  through  the  forest  straight  before  me.  I  accordingly 
mounted,  and  struck  into  a  sharp  canter.  About  an  h(jur's 
riding  brought  me  to  a  small  clearing,  in  the  midst  of  which 
stood  a  neat  and  picturesque  cottage,  over  the  door  of  which 
was  painted  the  words  ''  Station  de  Chasse  —  No.  4."  In  a 
little  garden  in  front  a  man  was  working  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
but  his  military  trousers  at  once  proclaimed  him  the  garde. 
He  stopped  as  I  came  up,  and  eyed  me  sharply. 

"  Is  this  the  road  to  Belleville?  "  said  I. 

"You  can  go  this  way;  but  it  takes  you  two  miles  of  a 
round,"  replied  he,  coming  closer,  and  scanning  me  keenly. 

"  You  can  tell  me,  perhaps,  where  Jacques  Caillon,  garde 
de  chasse,  is  to  be  found?  " 

"I  am  Jacques  Caillon,  sir,"  was  the  answer,  as  he 
saluted  in  soldier  fashion,  while  a  look  of  anxiety  stole  over 
his  face. 

"  I  have  something  to  speak  to  you  about,"  said  I,  dis- 
mounting, and  giving  him  the  bridle  of  ni}^  horse.  "  Throw 
him  some  corn,  if  you  have  got  it,  and  then  let  us  talk 
together ; "  and  with  this  I  walked  into  the  garden,  and 
seated  myself  on  a  bench. 

If  Jacques  be  an  old  soldier,  thought  I,  the  only  way  is  to 
come  the  ofHcer  over  liim  ;  discipline  and  obedience  are  never 
forgotten,  and  whatever  chances  I  may  have  of  his  confidence 
will  depend  on  how  much  I  seem  his  superior.  It  appeared 
as  if  this  conjecture  was  well  founded  ;  for  as  Jacques  came 
back,  his  manner  betrayed  every  sign  of  respect  and  defer- 
ence. There  was  an  expression  of  almost  fear  in  his  face  as, 
with  his  hand  to  his  cap,  he  asked  what  were  my  orders. 

The  very  deference  of  his  au'  w^as  disconcerting,  and  so, 
assuming  a  look  of  easy  cordiality,  I  said,  — 

"  First,  I  will  ask  you  to  give  me  something  to  eat ;  and, 
secondly,  to  give  me  your  company  for  half-an-hour." 

Jacques  promised  both,  and  learning  that  I  preferred  my 
breakfast  in  the  open  air,  proceeded  to  arrange  the  table 
under  a  blossoming   chestnut-tree. 


448  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"Are  you  quite  alone  here?"  asked  I,  as  he  passed  back 
and  forward. 

"Quite  alone,  sir;  and,  except  a  stray  fagot-cutter  or  a 
chance  traveller  who  may  have  lost  his  way,  I  never  see  a 
human  face  from  year's  end  to  year's  end.  It 's  a  lonely 
thing  for  an  old  soldier,  too,"  said  he  with  a  sigh. 

"  I  know  more  than  one  who  would  envy  you,  Jacques," 
said  I ;  and  the  words  made  him  almost  start  as  I  spoke 
them.  The  coffee  was  now  ready,  and  I  proceeded  to  make 
my  breakfast  with  all  the  appetite  of  a  long  fast. 

There  w^as  indeed  but  little  to  inspire  awe  or  even  defer- 
ence in  my  personal  appearance  ;  a  threadbare  undress  frock 
and  a  worn-out  old  foraging  cap  were  all  the  marks  of  my 
soldierlike  estate,  —  and  yet  from  Jacques's  manner  one 
might  have  guessed  me  to  be  a  general  at  the  least.  He 
attended  me  with  the  stiff  propriety  of  the  parade ;  and 
when  at  last  induced  to  take  a  seat,  he  did  so  full  two  yards 
off  from  the  table,  and  arose  almost  every  time  he  was  spoken 
to.  Now,  it  was  quite  clear  that  the  honest  soldier  did  not 
know  me  either  as  the  hero  of  Kehl,  of  Ireland,  or  of  Genoa. 
Great  achievements  as  they  were,  they  were  wonderfully 
little  noised  about  the  world,  and  a  man  might  frequent 
mixed  companies  every  day  of  the  week  and  never  hear  of 
one  of  them.  So  far,  then,  was  certain,  — it  could  not  be 
my  fame  had  imposed  on  him ;  and,  as  I  have  already  hinted, 
it  could  scarcely  be  my  general  appearance.  Who  knows, 
thought  I,  but  I  owe  all  this  obsequious  deference  to  my 
horse?  If  Jacques  be  an  old  cavalry-man,  he  will  have  re- 
marked that  the  beast  is  of  great  value,  and  doubtless  argue 
to  the  worth  of  the  rider  from  the  merits  of  his  "mount." 
If  this  explanation  was  not  the  most  flattering,  it  was  at  all 
events  the  best  I  could  hit  on ;  and  with  a  natural  reference 
to  what  was  passing  in  my  own  mind,  I  asked  him  if  he  had 
looked  to  my  horse. 

"Oh,  yes,  sir,"  said  he,  reddening  suddenly;  "I  have 
taken  off  the  saddle,  and  thrown  him  his  corn." 

What  the  deuce  does  his  confusion  mean,  thought  I ;  the 
fellow  looks  as  if  he  had  half  a  mind  to  run  away,  merely 
because  I  asked  him  a  simple  question. 

"  I  've  had  a  sharp  ride,"  said  I,  rather  by  way  of  saying 


A  FOREST  RIDE.  449 

something,    "  and    I    should  n't    wonder   if   he   was  a  little 
fatigued." 

''  Scarcely  so,  sir,"  said  he,  with  a  faint  smile  ;  ''  he  's  old, 
now,  but  it's  not  a  little  will  tire  him." 

''  You  know  him,  then?  "  said  I,  quickly. 

"Ay,  sir,  and  have  known  him  for  eighteen  years.  He 
was  in  the  second  squadron  of  our  regiment ;  the  major  rode 
him  two  entire  campaigns." 

The  reader  may  guess  that  his  history  was  interesting  to 
me  from  perceiving  the  impression  the  reminiscence  made  on 
the  relator,  and  I  inquired  what  became  of  him  after  that. 

"He  was  wounded  by  a  shot  at  Neuwied,  and  sold  into 
the  train,  where  they  could  n't  manage  him ;  and  after  three 
years,  when  horses  grew  scarce,  he  came  back  into  the  cavalry. 
A  sergeant-major  of  lancers  was  killed  on  him  at  Zweibrlicken. 
That  was  the  fourth  rider  he  brought  mishap  to,  not  to  say 
a  farrier  whom  he  dashed  to  pieces  in  his  stable." 

Ah,  Jack,  thought  I,  I  have  it ;  it  is  a  piece  of  old-soldier 
superstition  about  this  mischievous  horse  has  inspired  all  the 
man's  respect  and  reverence  ;  and  if  a  little  disappointed  in  the 
mystery,  I  was  so  far  pleased  at  having  discovered  the  clew. 

"But  I  have  found  him  quiet  enough,"  said  I;  "  I  never 
backed  him  till  yesterday,  and  he  has  carried  me  well  and 
peaceably." 

"Ah,  that  he  will  now,  I  warrant  him;  since  the  day  a 
shell  burst  under  him  at  Waitzen  he  itever  showed  any  vice. 
The  wound  nearly  left  the  ribs  bare,  and  he  was  for  months 
and  months  invalided ;  after  that  he  was  sold  out  of  the 
cavalry,  I  don't  know  where  or  to  whom.  The  next  I  saw  of 
him  was  in  his  present  service." 

"  Then  you  are  acquainted  with  the  present  owner?  "  asked 
I,  eagerly. 

"  As  every  Frenchman  is !  "  was  the  curt  rejoinder. 

'-^Parhleu!  it  will  seem  a  droll  confession,  then,  when  I 
tell  you  that  I  myself  do  not  even  know  his  name." 

The  look  of  contempt  these  words  brought  to  my  com- 
panion's face  could  not,  it  seemed,  be  either  repressed  or 
concealed ;  and  although  my  conscience  acquitted  me  of 
deserving  such  a  glance,  I  own  that  I  felt  insulted  by  it. 

"  You  are  pleased  to  disbelieve  me,  Master  Caillon,"  said 

29 


450  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

I,  sternly,  "  which  makes  me  suppose  that  you  are  neither  so 
old  nor  so  good  a  soldier  as  I  fancied ;  at  least  in  the  corps 
I  had  the  honor  to  serve  with,  the  word  of  an  officer  was 
respected  like  an  '  order  of  the  day.' " 

He  stood  erect,  as  if  on  parade,  under  this  rebuke,  but 
made  no  answer. 

"Had  you  simply  expressed  surprise  at  what  I  said,  I 
would  have  given  you  the  explanation  frankly  and  freely ;  as 
it  is,  I  shall  content  myself  with  repeating  what  I  said,  — I 
do  not  even  know  his  name." 

The  same  imperturbable  look  and  the  same  silence  met  me 
as  before. 

"  Now,  sir,  I  ask  you  how  this  gentleman  is  called,  whom 
I,  alone  of  all  France,  am  ignorant  of  ?  " 

"Monsieur  Fouche,"  said  he,  calmly. 

"What!  Fouche,  the  Minister  of  Police?" 

This  time,  at  least,  my  agitated  looks  seemed  to  move  him, 
for  he  replied,  quietly,  — 

"The  same,  sir.  The  horse  has  the  brand  of  the  '  minis- 
t^re'  on  his  haunch." 

"  And  where  is  the  minist^re?  "  cried  I,  eagerly. 

"  In  the  Rue  des  Victoires,  Monsieur." 

"But  he  lives  in  the  country,  in  a  chiUeau  near  this  very 
forest." 

"Where  does  he  not  live.  Monsieur?  At  Versailles,  at 
St.  Germain,  in  the  Luxembourg,  in  the  Marais,  at  Neuilly, 
the  Battignolles.  I  have  carried  despatches  to  him  in  every 
quarter  of  Paris.  Ah,  Monsieur,  what  secret  are  you  in 
possession  of,  that  it  was  worth  while  to  lay  so  subtle  a  trap 
to  catch  you?" 

This  question,  put  in  all  the  frank  abruptness  of  a  sudden 
thought,  immediately  revealed  everything  before  me. 

"Is  it  not  as  I  have  said?"  resumed  he,  still  looking  at 
my  agitated  face,  —  "is  it  not  as  I  have  said,  — Monsieur  is 
in  the  web  of  the  mouchards  ?  " 

"  Good  heavens  I  is  such  baseness  possible?  "  was  all  that 
I  could   utter. 

"  I  '11  wager  a  piece  of  five  francs  I  can  read  the  mystery," 
said  Jacques.  "You  served  on  Moreau's  staff,  or  with 
Pichegru  in  Holland  ;  you  either  have  some  of  the  general's 


A  FOREST   RIDE.  451 

letters,  or  j'ou  can  be  supposed  to  have  them  at  all  events ; 
you  remember  many  private  conversations  held  with  him  on 
polities ;  you  can  charge  your  memory  with  a  number  of 
strong  facts ;  and  you  can,  if  needed,  draw  up  a  memoir  of 
all  your  intercourse.  I  know  the  system  well,  for  I  was  a 
mouchard  myself." 

"You  a  police  spy,  Jacques?" 

"  Ay,  sir;  I  was  appointed  without  knowing  what  services 
were  expected  from  me,  or  the  duties  of  my  station.  Two 
months'  trial,  however,  showed  that  I  was  '  incapable,'  and 
proved  that  a  smart  sous-officier  is  not  necessarily  a  scoun- 
drel. They  dismissed  me  as  impracticable,  and  made  me 
garde  de  chasse  ;  and  they  were  right,  too.  Whether  I  was 
dressed  up  in  a  snuff-brown  suit,  like  a  bourgeois  of  the  Rue 
St.  Denis ;  whether  they  attired  me  as  a  farmer  from  the 
provinces,  a  retired  mmtre-de-post,  an  old  officer,  or  the  con- 
ducteur  of  a  diligence,  —  I  was  always  Jacques  Caillon. 
Through  everything,  wigs  and  beards,  lace  or  rags,  jackboots 
or  sabots,  it  was  all  alike ;  and  while  others  could  pass 
weeks  in  the  Pays  Latin  as  students,  country  doctors,  or 
notaires  de  village^  I  was  certain  to  be  detected  by  every  brat 
that  walked  the  streets." 

' '  What  a  system !  And  so  these  fellows  assume  every 
disguise?"  asked  I,  my  mind  full  of  my  late  rencontre. 

"That  they  do.  Monsieur.  There  is  one  fellow,  a  Pro- 
vencal by  birth,  has  played  more  characters  than  ever  did 
Brunet  himself.  I  have  known  him  as  a  lacquais  de  place,  a 
cook  to  an  English  nobleman,  a  letter-carrier,  a  flower-girl,  a 
cornet-a-piston  in  the  opera,  and  a  owe  from  the  Ardeche." 

"  A  cure  from  the  Ardeche !  "  exclaimed  I.  "  Then  I  am 
a  ruined  man." 

"What!  has  Monsieur  fallen  in  with  Paul?"  cried  he, 
laughing.  "  Was  he  begging  for  a  small  contribution  to  repair 
the  roof  of  his  little  chapel,  or  was  it  a  fire  that  had  devas- 
tated his  poor  village?  Did  the  altar  want  a  new  covering, 
or  the  cure  a  vestment?  Was  it  a  canopy  for  the  Fete  of  the 
Virgin,  or  a  few  sous  towards  the  Orphelines  de  St.  Jude  ?  " 

"None  of  these,"  said  I,  half  angrily,  for  the  theme  was 
no  jesting  one  to  me.  "It  was  a  poor  girl  that  had  been 
carried  away." 


452  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"  Lisette,  the  miller's  daughter,  or  the  schoolmaster's 
niece?  "  broke  he  in,  laughing.  "  He  must  have  known  you 
were  new  to  Paris,  Monsieur,  that  he  took  so  little  trouble 
about  a  deception.  And  you  met  him  at  the  Charette 
rouge  in  the  Marais?" 

"  No;  at  a  little  ordinary  in  the  Quai  Voltaire." 

"Better  again.  Why,  half  the  company  there  are 
mouchards.  It  is  one  of  their  rallying-points,  where  they 
exchange  tokens  and  information.  The  laborers,  the  beg- 
gars, the  fishermen  of  the  Seine,  the  hawkers  of  old  books, 
the  vendors  of  gilt  ornaments,  are  all  spies ;  the  most  miser- 
able creature  that  implored  charity  behind  your  chair  as  you 
sat  at  dinner  has,  perhaps,  his  ten  francs  a  day  on  the  roll  of 
the  Prefecture !  Ah,  Monsieur !  if  I  had  not  been  a  poor 
pupil  of  that  school,  I  'd  have  at  once  seen  that  you  were  a 
victim  and  not  a  follower ;  but  I  soon  detected  my  error,  — 
my  education  taught  me  at  least  so  much  I  " 

I  had  no  relish  for  the  self-gratulation  of  honest  Jacques, 
uttered,  as  it  was,  at  my  own  expense.  Indeed,  I  had  no 
thought  for  anything  but  the  entanglement  into  which  I  had 
so  stupidly  involved  myself ;  and  I  could  not  endure  the 
recollection  of  my  foolish  credulity,  now  that  all  the  paltry 
machinery  of  the  deceit  was  brought  before  me.  All  my 
regard,  dashed  as  it  was  with  pity  for  the  poor  cure  ;  all  my 
compassionate  interest  for  the  dear  Lisette ;  all  my  benevo- 
lent solicitude  for  the  sick  count,  who  was  neither  more  nor 
less  than  M.  Fouche  himself, — were  anything  but  pleasant 
reminiscences  now,  and  I  cursed  my  own  stupidity  with  an 
honest  sincerity  that  greatly  amused  my  companion. 

"And  is  France  come  to  this?"  cried  I,  passionately, 
and  trying  to  console  myself  by  inveighing  against  the 
Government. 

"Even  so,  sir,"  said  Jacques.  "I  heard  Monsieur  de 
Talleyrand  say  as  much  the  other  day,  as  I  waited  behind  his 
chair.  '  It  is  only  dans  les  bonnes  maisons^'  said  he,  '  that 
sei*\'ants  ever  listen  at  the  doors ;  '  depend  upon  it,  then,  that 
a  secret  police  is  a  strong  symptom  that  we  are  returning  to 
a  monarchy." 

it  was  plain  that  even  in  his  short  career  in  the  police  ser- 
vice Caillon  had  acquired  certain  shrewd  habits  of  thought 


A  FOREST  RIDE.  453 

and  some  power  of  judgment ;  and  so  I  freely  communicated 
to  him  the  whole  of  my  late  adventure  from  the  moment  of  my 
leaving  the  Temple  to  the  time  of  my  setting  out  for  the  Chateau. 

"  You  have  told  me  everything  but  one,  Monsieur,"  said 
he,  as  I  finished.  ''  How  came  you  ever  to  have  heard  the 
name  of  so  humble  a  person  as  Jacques  Calllon,  for  you 
remember  you  asked  for  me  as  you  rode  up  ?  " 

"  I  was  just  coming  to  that  point,  Jacques;  and,  as  you 
will  see,  it  was  not  an  omission  in  my  narrative,  only  that  I 
had  not  reached  so  far." 

I  then  proceeded  to  recount  my  night  in  the  forest,  and 
my  singular  meeting  with  poor  Mahon,  which  he  listened  to 
with  great  attention  and  some  anxiety. 

''  The  poor  colonel !  "  said  he,  breaking  in,  "  I  suppose  he 
is  a  hopeless  case ;  his  mind  can  never  come  right  again." 

''But  if  the  persecution  were  to  cease;  if  he  were  at 
liberty  to  appear  once  more  in  the  world  — " 

"What  if  there  was  no  persecution,  sir?"  broke  in 
Jacques.  "  What  if  the  whole  were  a  mere  dream,  or 
fancy?  He  is  neither  tracked  nor  followed.  It  is  not  such 
harmless  game  the  bloodhounds  of  the  Rue  des  Victoires 
scent  out." 

''AVas  it,  then,  some  mere  delusion  drove  him  from  the 
sen'ice?"  said  I,  surprised. 

"  I  never  said  so  much  as  that,"  replied  Jacques  ;  "  Colo- 
nel Mahon  has  foul  injury  to  complain  of;  but  his  present 
sufferings  are  the  inflictions  of  his  own  terror.  He  fancies 
that  the  whole  power  of  France  is  at  war  with  him,  that 
every  engine  of  the  Government  is  directed  against  him ; 
with  a  restless  fear  he  flies  from  village  to  village,  fancying 
pursuit  everywhere ;  even  kindness  now  he  is  distrustful  of, 
and  the  chances  are,  that  he  will  quit  the  forest  this  very  day 
merely  because  he  met  you  there." 

From  being  of  all  men  the  most  opened-hearted  and  frank, 
he  had  become  the  most  suspicious ;  he  trusted  nothing  nor 
any  one ;  and  if  for  a  moment  a  burst  of  his  old  generous 
nature  would  return,  it  was  sure  to  be  followed  by  some 
excess  of  distrust  that  made  him  miserable  almost  to  despair. 
Jacques  was  obliged  to  fall  in  with  this  humor,  and  only 
assist  him  by  stealth  and  by  stratagem ;   he  was  even  com- 


454  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

pelled  to  chime  in  with  all  his  notions  about  pursuit  and 
danger,  to  suggest  frequent  change  of  place  and  endless 
precautions  against  discovery. 

"Were  I  for  once  to  treat  him  frankly,  and  ask  him  to 
share  my  home  with  me,"  said  Jacques,  "  I  should  never  see 
him  more." 

"What  could  have  poisoned  so  noble  a  nature?"  cried 
I ;  "  when  I  saw  him  last  he  was  the  very  type  of  generous 
confidence." 

"  Where  was  that,  and  when?  "  asked  Jacques. 

"  It  was  at  Nancy,  on  the  march  for  the  Rhine." 

"  His  calamities  had  not  fallen  on  him  then.  He  was  a 
proud  man  in  those  days,  but  it  was  a  pride  that  well  became 
him ;  he  was  the  colonel  of  a  great  regiment,  and  for  bravery 
had  a  reputation  second  to  none." 

"  He  was  married,  I  think?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  he  was  never  married." 

As  Jacques  said  this,  he  arose  and  moved  slowly  away,  as 
though  he  would  not  be  questioned  further.  His  mind,  too, 
seemed  full  of  its  own  crowding  memories,  for  he  looked 
completely  absorbed  in  thought,  and  never  noticed  my  pre- 
sence for  a  considerable  time.  At  last  he  appeared  to  have 
decided  some  doubtful  issue  within  himself,  and  said,  — 

"  Come,  sir,  let  us  stroll  into  the  shade  of  the  wood,  and 
I  '11  tell  you  in  a  few  words  the  cause  of  the  poor  colonel's 
ruin,  —  for  ruin  it  is.  Even  were  all  the  injustice  to  be 
revoked  to-morrow,  the  wreck  of  his  heart  could  never  be 
repaired." 

We  walked  along,  side  by  side,  for  some  time,  before 
Jacques  spoke  again,  when  he  gave  me,  in  brief  and  simple 
words,  the  following  sorrowful  story.  It  was  such  a  type  of 
the  age,  so  pregnant  with  the  terrible  lessons  of  the  time, 
that  although  not  without  some  misgivings  I  repeat  it  here 
as  it  was  told  to  myself,  premising  that  however  scant  may 
be  the  reader's  faith  in  many  of  the  incidents  of  my  own  nar- 
rative, —  and  I  neither  beg  for  his  trust  in  me  nor  seek  to 
entrap  it,  —  I  implore  him  to  believe  that  what  I  am  now 
about  to  tell  was  a  plain  matter  of  fact,  and,  save  in  the 
change  of  one  name,  not  a  single  circumstance  is  owing  to 
imagination. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

AN    EPISODE    OF    '94. 

When  the  French  army  fell  back  across  the  Sambre  after 
the  battle  of  Mods,  a  considerable  portion  of  the  rear  who 
covered  the  retreat  were  cut  off  by  the  enemy,  for  it  became 
their  onerous  duty  to  keep  the  allied  forces  in  check,  while 
the  Republicans  took  measures  to  secure  and  hold  fast  the 
three  bridges  over  the  river.  In  this  service  many  distin- 
guished French  officers  fell,  and  many  more  were  left  badly 
wounded  on  the  field  ;  among  the  latter  was  a  young  captain 
of  dragoons,  who,  with  his  hand  nearly  severed  by  a  sabre 
cut,  yet  found  strength  enough  to  crawl  under  cover  of  a 
hedge,  and  there  lie  down  in  the  fierce  resolve  to  die  where 
he  was  rather  than  surrender  himself  as  a  prisoner. 

Although  the  allied  forces  had  gained  the  battle,  they 
quickly  foresaw  that  the  ground  they  had  won  was  unten- 
able ;  and  scarcely  had  night  closed  in  when  they  began 
their  preparations  to  fall  back.  With  strong  pickets  of 
observation  to  watch  the  bridges,  they  slowly  withdrew 
their  columns  towards  Mons,  posting  the  artillery  on  the 
heights  around  Grandrengs.  From  these  movements,  the 
ground  of  the  late  struggle  became  comparatively  deserted, 
and  before  day  began  to  dawn  not  a  sound  was  heard  over 
its  wide  expanse  save  the  faint  moan  of  a  dying  soldier,  or 
the  low  rumble  of  a  cart  as  some  spoiler  of  the  dead  stole 
stealthily  along.  Among  the  demoralizing  effects  of  war, 
none  was  more  striking  than  the  number  of  the  peasantry 
who  betook  themselves  to  this  infamous  trade ;  and  who, 
neglecting  all  thoughts  of  honest  industry,  devoted  them- 
selves to  robbery  and  plunder.  The  lust  of  gain  did  not 
stop  with  the  spoil  of  the  dead,  but  the  wounded  were  often 


456  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

found  stripped  of  everything ;  and  in  some  cases  the  traces 
of  fierce  struggle,  and  the  wounds  of  knives  and  hatchets, 
showed  that  murder  had  consummated  the  iniquity  of  these 
wretches. 

In  part  from  motives  of  pure  humauit3\  in  part  from  feel- 
ings of  a  more  interested  nature,  —  for  the  terror  to  what  this 
demoralization  would  tend  was  now  great  and  wide-spread, 
—  the  nobles  and  gentry  of  the  land  instituted  a  species  of 
society  to  reward  those  who  might  succor  the  wounded,  and 
who  displayed  any  remarkable  zeal  in  their  care  for  the 
sufferers  after  a  battle.  This  generous  philanthropy  was 
irrespective  of  country,  and  extended  its  benevolence  to  the 
soldiers  of  either  army ;  of  course,  personal  feeling  enjoyed 
all  its  liberty  of  preference,  but  it  is  fair  to  say  that  the 
cases  were  few  where  the  wounded  man  could  detect  the 
political  leanings  of  his  benefactor. 

The  immense  granaries  so  universal  in  the  Low  Countries 
were  usually  fitted  up  as  hospitals,  and  many  rooms  of  the 
chateau  itself  were  often  devoted  to  the  same  purpose,  —  the 
various  individuals  of  the  household,  from  the  seigneur  to 
the  lowest  menial,  assuming  some  office  in  the  great  work  of 
charity ;  and  it  was  a  curious  thing  to  see  how  the  luxurious 
indolence  of  chateau  life  became  converted  into  the  zealous 
activity  of  useful  benevolence,  —  and  not  less  curious  to  the 
moralist  to  observe  how  the  emergent  pressure  of  great 
crime  so  instinctively,  as  it  were,  suggested  this  display  of 
virtuous  humanit3^ 

It  was  a  little  before  daybreak  that  a  small  cart  drawn  by 
a  mule  drew  up  beside  the  spot  where  the  wounded  dragoon 
sat,  with  his  shattered  arm  bound  up  in  his  sash,  calmly 
waiting  for  the  death  that  his  sinking  strength  told  could  not 
be  far  distant.  As  the  peasant  approached  him,  he  grasped 
his  sabre  in  the  left  hand,  resolved  on  making  a  last  and  bold 
resistance ;  but  the  courteous  salutation  and  the  kindly  look 
of  the  honest  countryman  soon  showed  that  he  was  come  on 
no  errand  of  plunder,  while,  in  the  few  words  of  bad  French 
he  could  muster,  he  explained  his  purpose. 

"No,  no,  my  kind  friend,"  said  the  officer,  "your  labor 
would  only  be  lost  on  me.  It  is  nearly  all  over  already ! 
A  little  further  on  in    the   field,  yonder,  where   that  copse 


AN   EPISODE   OF   '94.  457 

stands,  you  '11  find  some  poor  fellow  or  other  better  worlli 
your  care,  and  more  like  to  benefit  by  it.     Adieu  !  " 

But  neither  the  farewell  nor  the  abrupt  gesture  that 
accompanied  it  could  turn  the  honest  peasant  from  his  pur- 
pose. There  was  something  that  interested  him  in  this  very 
disregard  of  life,  as  well  as  in  the  personal  appearance  of  the 
sufferer;  and,  without  further  colloquy,  he  lifted  the  half- 
fainting  form  into  the  cart,  and  disposing  the  straw  comfort- 
ably on  either  side  of  him,  set  out  homeward.  The  wounded 
man  was  almost  indifferent  to  what  happened,  and  never 
spoke  a  word  nor  raised  his  head  as  they  went  along.  About 
three  hours'  journey  brought  them  to  a  large,  old-fashioned 
chateau  beside  the  Sambre,  —  an  immense  straggling  edifice 
which,  with  a  facade  of  nearly  a  hundred  windows,  looked 
out  upon  the  river.  Although  now  in  disrepair  and  neglect, 
with  ill-trimmed  alleys  and  grass-grown  terraces,  it  had  been 
once  a  place  of  great  pretensions,  and  associated  with  some 
of  the  palmiest  days  of  Flemish  hospitality.  The  Chuteau 
d'Overbecque  was  the  property  of  a  certain  rich  merchant  of 
Antwerp  named  D'Aerschot,  one  of  the  oldest  families  of 
the  land,  and  was,  at  the  time  we  speak  of,  the  temporary 
abode  of  his  only  son,  who  had  gone  there  to  pass  the  honey- 
moon. Except  that  they  were  both  young,  neither  of  them 
yet  twenty,  two  people  could  not  easily  be  found  so  discre- 
pant in  every  circumstance  and  every  quality,  —  he  the  true 
descendant  of  a  Flemish  house,  plodding,  commonplace,  and 
methodical,  hating  show  and  detesting  expense  ;  she  a  lively, 
volatile  girl,  bursting  with  desire  to  see  and  be  seen,  fresh 
from  the  restraint  of  a  convent  at  Bruges,  and  anxious  to 
mix  in  all  the  pleasures  and  dissipations  of  the  world.  Like 
all  marriages  in  their  condition,  it  had  been  arranged  without 
their  knowledge  or  consent ;  circumstances  of  fortune  made 
the  alliance  suitable,  —  so  many  hundred  thousand  florins  on 
one  side  were  wedded  to  an  equivalent  on  the  other,  and  the 
young  people  were  married  to  facilitate  the  "  transaction." 

That  he  was  not  a  little  shocked  at  the  gay  frivolity  of  his 
beautiful  bride,  and  she  as  much  disai)pointed  at  the  staid 
demureness  of  her  stolid-looking  husband,  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at;  but  their  friends  knew  well  that  time  would 
smooth  down  greater  discrepancies  than  even  these;  and  if 


458  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

ever  there  was  a  country  the  monotony  of  whose  life  could 
subdue  aU  to  its  own  leaden  tone  it  was  HoUand  in  old  days. 
Whether  engaged  in  the  active  pursuit  of  gain  in  the  great 
cities  or  enjoying  the  luxurious  repose  of  chateau  life,  a  dull, 
dreary  uniformity  pen'aded  everything ;  the  same  topics,  the 
same  people,  the  same  landscape,  recurred  day  after  day,  and 
save  what  the  season  induced  there  was  nothing  of  change 
in  the  whole  round  of  their  existence.  And  what  a  dull  honey- 
moon was  it  for  that  young  bride  at  the  old  Chateau  d'Over- 
becque  !  To  toil  along  the  deep  sandy  roads  in  a  lumbering 
old  coach  with  two  long-tailed  black  horses ;  to  halt  at  some 
little  eminence,  and  strain  the  eyes  over  a  long  unbroken  flat, 
where  a  windmill,  miles  off,  was  an  object  of  interest;  to 
loiter  beside  the  bank  of  a  sluggish  canal,  and  gaze  on  some 
tasteless  excrescence  of  a  summer-house  whose  owner  could 
not  be  distinguished  from  the  wooden  effigy  that  sat,  pipe  in 
mouth,  beside  him ;  to  dine  in  the  unbroken  silence  of  a 
funeral  feast,  and  doze  away  the  afternoon  over  the  "  Handels- 
blatt,"  while  her  husband  smoked  himself  into  the  seventh 
heaven  of  a  Dutch  EKsium,  —  poor  Caroline  !  this  was  a  sorry 
realization  of  all  her  bright  dreamiugs  !  It  ought  to  be  borne 
in  mind  that  many  descendants  of  high  French  families, 
who  were  either  too  proud  or  too  poor  to  emigrate  to  Eng- 
land or  America,  had  sought  refuge  from  the  Revolution  in 
the  convents  of  the  Low  Countries,  where,  without  entering 
an  order,  they  lived  in  all  the  discipline  of  a  religious  com- 
munity. These  ladies,  many  of  whom  had  themselves  mixed 
in  all  the  elegant  dissipations  of  the  com't,  earned  with  them 
the  most  fascinating  reminiscences  of  a  life  of  pleasure,  and 
could  not  readily  forget  the  voluptuous  enjoyments  of  Ver- 
sailles, and  the  graceful  caprices  of  Le  Petit  Trianon.  From 
such  sources  as  these  the  young  pupils  drew  all  their  ideas  of 
the  world,  and  assuredly  it  could  have  scarcely  worn  colors 
more  likely  to  fascinate  such  imaginations. 

What  a  shortcoming  was  the  wearisome  routine  of  Over- 
becque  to  a  mind  full  of  all  the  refined  follies  of  Marie 
Antoinette's  court!  Even  war  and  its  chances  offered  a 
pleasurable  contrast  to  such  dull  monotony,  and  the  young 
bride  hailed  with  eagerness  the  excitement  and  bustle  of  the 
moving  armies, — the  long  columns  which  poured  along  the. 


AN  EPISODE  OF  '94.  459 

high  road,  and  the  clanking  artillery  heard  for  miles  off. 
Mousieui'  d'Aerschot,  like  all  his  countrymen  who  held 
property  near  the  frontier,  was  too  prudent  to  have  any 
political  bias.  Madame  was,  however,  violently  French. 
The  people  who  had  such  admirable  taste  in  toilette  could 
scarcely  be  wrong  in  the  theories  of  government;  and  a 
nation  so  invariably  correct  in  dress  could  liardly  be  astray 
in  morals.  Besides  this,  all  their  notions  of  morality  were 
as  pliant  and  as  easy  to  wear  as  their  own  well-fitting  gar- 
ments. Nothing  was  wrong  but  what  looked  ungraceful ; 
everything  was  right  that  sat  becomingly  on  her  who  did 
it,  —  a  short  code,  and  wonderfully  easy  to  learn. 

If  I  have  dealt  somewhat  tediously  on  these  tendencies  of 
the  time,  it  is  that  I  may  pass  the  more  glibly  over  the 
consequences,  and  not  pause  upon  the  details  by  which  the 
3^oung  French  captain's  residence  at  Overbecque  gradually 
grew,  from  the  intercourse  of  kindness  and  good  offices,  to 
be  a  close  friendship  with  his  host,  and  as  much  of  regard 
and  respectful  devotion  as  consisted  with  the  position  of  his 
young  and  charming  hostess.  He  thought  her,  as  she  cer- 
tainly was,  very  beautiful ;  she  rode  to  perfection,  she  sang 
delightfully  ;  she  had  all  the  volatile  gayety  of  a  happy  child, 
with  the  graceful  ease  of  coming  womanhood.  Her  very 
passion  for  excitement  gave  a  kind  of  life  and  energy  to  the 
dull  old  chateau,  and  made  her  momentary  absence  felt  as  a 
dreary  blank. 

It  is  not  my  wish  to  speak  of  the  feelings  suggested  by 
the  contrast  between  her  husband  and  the  gay  and  chival- 
rous young  soldier,  nor  how  little  such  comparisons  tended 
to  allay  the  repinings  at  her  lot.  Then*  first  effect  was,  how- 
ever, to  estrange  her  more  and  more  from  D'Aerschot,  a 
change  which  he  accepted  with  the  most  Dutch  indifference. 
Possibly  piqued  by  this,  or  desirous  of  awakening  his 
jealousy,  she  made  more  advances  towards  the  other,  select- 
ing him  as  the  companion  of  her  walks,  and  passing  the 
greater  portion  of  each  day  in  his  society.  Nothing  could 
be  more  honorable  than  tlie  young  soldier's  conduct  in  this 
trying  position.  The  qualities  of  agreeability,  which  he  had 
previously  displayed  to  requite  in  some  sort  tiie  hospitality 
of  his  hosts,  he  now  gradually  restrained,  avoiding,  as  far  as 


460  MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

he  could  without  remark,  the  society  of  the  young  Countess, 
and  even  feigning  indisposition  to  escape  from  the  peril  of 
her  intimacy. 

He  did  more,  —  he  exerted  himself  to  draw  D'Aerschot  more 
out,  to  make  him  exhibit  the  shrewd  intelligence  which  lay 
buried  beneath  his  native  apathy,  and  display  powers  of 
thought  and  reflection  of  no  mean  order.  Alas  !  these  very 
efforts  on  his  part  only  increased  the  mischief,  by  adding 
generosit}"  to  his  other  vu'tues  I  He  now  saw  all  the  danger 
in  which  he  was  standing,  and,  although  still  weak  and  suffer- 
ing, resolved  to  take  his  departure.  There  was  none  of  the 
concealed  vanity  of  a  coxcomb'  in  this  knowledge.  He 
heartily  deplored  the  injury  he  had  unwittingly  done, 
and  the  sorry  return  he  had  made  for  all  their  generous 
hospitality. 

There  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost ;  but  the  very  evening 
before,  as  they  walked  together  in  the  garden,  she  had  con- 
fessed to  him  the  misery  in  which  she  lived  by  recounting 
the  story  of  her  ill-sorted  marriage.  What  it  cost  him  to 
listen  to  that  sad  tale  with  seeming  coldness !  to  hear  her 
afflictions  without  offering  one  word  of  kindness !  nay,  to 
proffer  merely  some  dry,  harsh  counsels  of  patience  and  sub- 
mission, while  he  added  something  very  like  rebuke  for  her 
want  of  that  assiduous  affection  which  should  have  been 
given  to  her  husband ! 

Unaccustomed  to  even  the  slightest  censure,  she  could 
scarcely  trust  her  ears  as  she  heard  him.  Had  she  humiliated 
herself  by  such  a  confession,  to  be  met  by  advice  like  this  ? 
And  was  it  he  that  should  reproach  her  for  the  very  faults 
his  own  intimacy  had  engendered?  She  could  not  endure 
the  thought,  and  she  felt  that  she  could  hate  just  at  the  very 
moment  when  she  knew  she  loved  him ! 

They  parted  in  anger,  —  reproaches,  the  most  cutting  and 
bitter,  on  her  part ;  coldness,  far  more  wounding,  on  his ! 
sarcastic  compliments  upon  his  generosit}^,  replied  to  by  as 
sincere  expressions  of  respectful  friendship  I  What  hypocrisy 
and  self-deceit  together !  And  -^^et  deep  beneath  all  lay  the 
firm  resolve  for  future  victory.  Her  wounded  self-love  was 
irritated,  and  she  was  not  one  to  turn  from  an  unfinished 
purpose.     As  for  him,  he  waited  till  all  was  still  and  silent 


AN  EPISODE   OF   '94.  461 

in  the  house,  and  then  seeking  out  D'Aerschot's  chamber, 
thanked  him  most  sincerely  for  all  his  kindness,  and  affecting 
a  hurried  order  to  join  his  service,  departed.  While  in  her 
morning  dreams  she  was  fanc^^ing  conquest,  he  was  already 
miles  away  on  the  road  to  France. 

It  was  about  three  years  after  this  that  a  number  of 
French  officers  were  seated  one  evening  in  front  of  a  little 
cafe  in  Freyburg.  The  town  was  then  crammed  with  troops 
moving  down  to  occupy  the  passes  of  the  Rhine,  near  the 
Lake  of  Constance,  and  every  hour  saw  fresh  arrivals  pour- 
ing in,  dusty  and  wayworn  from  the  march.  The  necessity 
for  a  sudden  massing  of  the  troops  in  a  particular  spot  com- 
pelled the  generals  to  employ  every  possible  means  of  con- 
veyance to  forward  the  men  to  their  destination ;  and  from 
the  lumbering  old  diligence  with  ten  horses  to  the  light  cha- 
rette  with  one,  all  were  engaged  in  this  pressing  service. 
When  men  were  weary,  and  unable  to  march  forward,  they 
were  taken  up  for  twelve  or  fourteen  miles,  after  which  they 
proceeded  on  their  way,  making  room  for  others ;  and  thus 
forty  and  even  fifty  miles  were  frequently  accomplished  in 
the  same  day. 

The  group  before  the  cafe  were  amusing  themselves  criti- 
cising the  strange  appearance  of  the  new  arrivals,  many  of 
whom  certainly  made  their  entry  in  the  least  military  fashion 
possible.  Here  came  a  great  country  wagon,  with  forty 
infantry  soldiers  all  sleeping  on  the  straw ;  here  followed  a 
staff-officer  trying  to  look  quite  at  his  ease  in  a  donkey-cart ; 
unwieldy  old  bullock-carts  were  filled  with  men,  and  a  half- 
starved  mule  tottered  along  with  a  drummer-boy  in  one 
pannier  and  camp-kettles  in  the  other. 

He  who  was  fortunate  enough  to  secure  a  horse  for  him- 
self was  obliged  to  carry  the  swords  and  weapons  of  his 
companions,  whicli  were  all  hung  around  and  about  him  on 
every  side,  together  with  helmets  and  shakos  of  all  shapes 
and  sizes,  whose  owners  were  fain  to  cover  their  head  with 
the  less  soldier-like  appendages  of  a  nightcap  or  a  handker- 
chief. Nearly  all  who  marched  carried  their  caps  on  their 
muskets,  for  in  such  times  as  these  all  discipline  is  relaxed, 
save  such  as  is  indispensable  to  the  maintenance  of  order; 


462  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

and  so  far  was  freedom  conceded  that  some  were  to  be  seen 
walking  barefoot  in  the  ranks,  while  their  shoes  were  sus- 
pended by  a  string  on  theii*  backs.  The  rule  seemed  to  be 
"  Get  forward,  it  matters  not  how,  —  onl}^  get  forward  !  " 

And  with  French  troops  such  relaxation  of  strict  discipline 
is  alwaj^s  practicable ;  the  instincts  of  obedience  return  at 
the  first  call  of  the  bugle  or  the  first  roll  of  the  drum ;  and 
at  the  word  to  "fall  in!"  every  symptom  of  disorder 
vanishes,  and  the  mass  of  seeming  confusion  becomes  the 
steady  and  silent  phalanx. 

Many  were  the  strange  sights  that  passed  before  the  eyes 
of  the  party  at  the  ca/e,  who,  having  arrived  early  in  the 
day,  gave  themselves  all  the  airs  of  ease  and  indolence 
before  their  way-worn  comrades.  Now  laughing  heartily  at 
the  absurdity  of  this  one,  now  exchanging  some  good- 
humored  jest  with  that,  they  were  in  the  very  full  current  of 
their  criticism,  when  the  sharp  shrill  crack  of  a  postilion's 
whip  informed  them  that  a  traveller  of  some  note  was 
approaching.  A  mounted  courier,  all  slashed  with  gold  lace, 
came  riding  up  the  street  at  the  same  moment,  and  a  short 
distance  behind  followed  a  handsome  equipage  drawn  by  six 
horses,  after  which  came  a  heavy  "  fourgon"  with  four. 

One  glance  showed  that  the  whole  equipage  betokened  a 
wealthy  owner.  There  was  all  that  cumbrous  machinery  of 
comfort  about  it  that  tells  of  people  who  will  not  trust  to 
the  chances  of  the  road  for  their  daily  wants.  Every  appli- 
ance of  ease  was  there,  and  even  in  the  self-satisfied  air  of 
the  servants  who  lounged  in  the  rumble  might  be  read  habits 
of  affluent  prosperity.  A  few  short  years  back,  and  none 
would  have  dared  to  use  such  an  equipage,  —  the  sight  of  so 
much  indulgence  would  have  awakened  the  fiercest  rage  of 
popular  fury ;  but  already  the  high  fever  of  democracy"  was 
gradually  subsiding,  and,  bit  by  bit,  men  were  found  revert- 
ing to  old  habits  and  old  usages.  Still,  each  new  indication 
of  these  tastes  met  a  certain  amount  of  reprobation.  Some 
blamed  openly,  some  condemned  in  secret ;  but  all  felt  that 
there  was  at  least  impolicy  in  a  display  which  would  serve  as 
pretext  to  the  terrible  excesses  that  were  committed  under 
the  banner  of  "Equality." 

"If  we  lived  in  the  da^'s  of  princes,"  said  one  of  the 


AN  EPISODE  OF  '94.  463 

officers,  "  I  should  say  there  goes  one  now.  Just  look  at  all 
the  dust  they  are  kicking  up  yonder ;  while,  as  if  to  point  a 
moral  upon  greatness,  they  are  actually  stuck  fast  in  the 
narrow  street,  and  unable,  from  their  own  unwieldiness,  to 
get  farther." 

"Just  so,"  cried  another;  "they  want  to  turn  down 
towards  the  Swan,  and  there  is  n't  space  enough  to  wheel 
the  leaders." 

"  Who  or  what  are  they?  "  asked  a  third. 

"  Some  commissary-general,  I'll  be  sworn,"  said  the  first. 
"They  are  the  most  shameless  thieves  going;  for  they  are 
never  satisfied  with  robbery  if  they  do  not  exhibit  the  spoils 
in  public." 

"  I  see  a  bonnet  and  a  lace  veil,"  said  another,  rising  sud- 
denly, and  pushing  through  the  crowd.  "I'll  wager  it's  a 
danseuse  of  the  Grand  Opera." 

"Look  at  Merode !  "  remarked  the  former,  as  he  pointed 
to  the  last  speaker.  ' '  See  how  he  thrusts  himself  forward 
there.  Watch,  and  you  '11  see  him  bow  and  smile  to  her,  as 
if  they  had  been  old  acquaintances." 

The  guess  was  so  far  unlucky  that  Merode  had  no  sooner 
come  within  sight  of  the  carriage-window  than  he  was  seen 
to  bring  his  hand  to  the  salute,  and  remain  in  an  attitude  of 
respectful  attention  till  the  equipage  moved  on. 

"  Well,  Merode,  who  is  it  —  who  are  they?  "  cried  several 
together,  as  he  fell  back  among  his  comrades. 

"It's  our  new  adjutant-general.  Parhlen!''  said  he, 
"  and  he  caught  me  staring  in  at  his  pretty  wife," 

"  Colonel  Mahon !  "  said  another,  laughing.  "  I  wish  you 
joy  of  your  gallantry,  Merode." 

"And,  worse  still,"  broke  in  a  third,  "she  is  not  his 
wife.  She  never  could  obtain  the  divorce  to  allow  her  to 
marry  again.  Some  said  it  was  the  husband  —  a  Dutchman, 
I  believe  —  refused  it;  but  the  simple  truth  is  she  never 
wished  it  herself." 

"  How  not  wish  it?  "  remarked  three  or  four  in  a  breath. 

"Why  should  she?  Has  she  not  every  advantage  the 
position  could  give  her,  and  her  liberty  into  the  bargain? 
If  we  were  back  again  in  the  old  days  of  the  monarchy,  I 
agree  with  you  she  could  not  go  to  court ;  she  would  receive 


464  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

no  invitations  to  the  petits  soupers  of  the  Trianon,  nor  be 
asked  to  join  the  discreet  hunting-parties  at  Fontainebleau ; 
but  we  live  in  less  polished  days,  and  if  we  have  little 
virtue  we  have  less  hypocrisy." 

"  Vollaf"  cried  another,  "only  I,  for  one,  would  never 
believe  that  we  are  a  jot  more  wicked  or  more  dissolute  than 
those  powdered  and  perfumed  scoundrels  that  played  courtier 
in  the  king's  bedchamber." 

' '  There,  they  are  getting  out,  at  the  Tour  d' Argent !  " 
cried  another.  "  She  is  a  splendid  figure,  and  what  mag- 
nificence in  her  dress  !  " 

"  Mahon  waits  on  her  like  a  lacquais,"  muttered  a  grim 
old  lieutenant  of  infantry. 

"  Rather  like  a  well-born  cavalier,  I  should  say,"  inter- 
posed a  young  hussar.  "  His  manner  is  all  that  it  ought  to 
be,  —  full  of  devotion  and  respect." 

"  Bah !  "  said  the  former ;  "a  soldier's  wife,  or  a  soldier's 
mistress  (for  it 's  all  one) ,  should  know  how  to  climb  up  to 
her  place  on  the  baggage-wagon  without  three  lazy  rascals 
to  catch  her  sleeve  or  her  petticoats  for  her." 

"  Mahon  is  as  gallant  a  soldier  as  any  in  this  army,"  said 
the  hussar ;  ' '  and  I  'd  not  be  in  the  man's  coat  who  dis- 
paraged him  in  anything." 

"  By  St.  Denis  !  "  broke  in  another,  "  he 's  not  more  brave 
than  he  is  fortunate.  Let  me  tell  you,  it 's  no  slight  luck  to 
chance  upon  so  lovely  a  woman  as  that,  with  such  an  immense 
fortune  too." 

"  Is  she  rich?  " 

"  Enormously  rich.  He  has  nothing.  An  emigre  of  good 
family,  I  believe,  but  without  a  sous  ;  and  see  how  he  travels 
yonder !  " 

While  this  conversation  was  going  forward,  the  new 
arrivals  had  alighted  at  the  chief  inn  of  the  town  and  were 
being  installed  in  the  principal  suite  of  rooms,  which  opened 
on  a  balcony  over  the  Place.  The  active  preparations  of 
the  host  to  receive  such  distinguished  guests  —  the  hurrying 
of  servants  here  and  there,  the  blaze  of  wax-lights  that 
shone  half-way  across  the  street  beneath,  and  lastly  the 
appearance  of  a  regimental  band  to  play  under  the  windows 
—  were  all   circumstances   well   calculated   to    sustain    and 


AN  EPISODE   OF  '94.  465 

stimulate  that  spirit  of  sharp  criticism  which  the  group 
around  the  cafe  were  engaged  in. 

The  discussion  was,  however,  suddenly  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  an  officer,  at  whose  appearance  every  one  arose 
and  stood  in  attitudes  of  respectful  attention.  Scarcely 
above  the  middle  size,  and  more  remarkable  for  the  calm  and 
intellectual  cast  of  his  features  than  for  that  air  of  military 
pride  then  so  much  in  vogue  amongst  the  French  troops,  he 
took  his  place  at  a  small  table  near  the  door  and  called  for 
his  coffee.  It  was  only  when  he  was  seated,  and  that  by  a 
slight  gesture  he  intimated  his  wishes  to  that  effect,  that  the 
others  resumed  their  places  and  continued  the  conversation, 
but  in  a  lower,  more  subdued  tone. 

"  What  distinguished  company  have  we  got  yonder? " 
said  he,  after  about  half  an  hour's  quiet  contemplation  of 
the  crowd  before  the  inn  and  the  glaring  illumination  from 
the  windows. 

"  Colonel  Mahon,  of  the  Fifth  Cuirassiers,  General," 
replied  an  officer. 

"Our  Republican  simplicity  is  not  so  self-denying  a 
system,  after  all,  gentlemen,"  said  the  general,  smiling  half 
sarcastically.     "  Is  he  very  rich?" 

"  His  mistress  is.  General,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"Bah!"  said  the  general,  as  he  threw  liis  cigar  away, 
and  with  a  contemptuous  expression  of  look  arose  and 
walked  away. 

''''  Farhleu!  he's  going  to  the  inn,"  cried  an  oflieer,  who 
peered  out  after  him  ;  "  I  '11  be  sworn  Mahon  will  get  a  heavy 
reprimand  for  all  this  display  and  ostentation." 

"And  why  not?"  said  another.  "Is  it  when  men  are 
arriving  half  dead  with  fatigue,  without  rations,  without 
l)illets,  glad  to  snatch  a  few  hours'  rest  on  the  stones  of  the 
Place,  that  the  colonel  of  a  regiment  should  travel  with  all 
the  state  of  an  eastern  despot?" 

"  We  might  as  well  have  the  monarchy  back  again,"  said 
an  old  weather-beaten  captain;  "  I  say  far  better,  for  their 
vices  sat  gracefully  and  becomingly  on  those  essenced 
scoundrels,  whereas  they  but  disfigure  the  plainness  of  our 
daily  habits." 

"All  this  is  sheer  envy,  comrades,"  broke   in  a  young 

30 


466  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

major  of  hussars,  —  "  sheer  envy  ;  or,  what  is  worse,  down- 
right hypocrisy.  Not  one  of  us  is  a  whit  better  or  more 
moral  than  if  he  wore  the  livery  of  a  king,  and  carried  a 
crown  on  his  shako  instead  of  that  naked  damsel  that 
represents  French  liberty.  Mahon  is  the  luckiest  fellow 
going,  and,  I  heartily  believe,  the  most  deserving  of  his 
fortune !  And  see  if  General  Moreau  be  not  of  my  opinion. 
There  he  is  on  the  balcony,  and  she  is  leaning  on  his  arm." 

'•''  ParUeu!  the  major  is  right!  "  said  another;  "  but,  for 
certain,  it  was  not  in  that  humor  he  left  us  just  now ;  his 
lips  were  closely  puckered  up,  and  his  fingers  were  twisted 
into  his  sword-knot,  —  two  signs  of  anger  and  displeasure 
there 's  no  mistaking." 

"  If  he  'b  in  a  better  temper,  then,"  said  another,  "  it  was 
never  the  smiles  of  a  pretty  woman  worked  the  change. 
There's  not  a  man  in  France  so  thoroughly  indifferent  to 
such  blandishments." 

"Tant  pis  pour  lui,"  said  the  major;  "but  they're 
closing  the  window-shutters,  and  we  may  as  well  go 
home." 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE    CABINET    OF   A   CIIEF-DE-POLICE. 

Whatever  opinion  may  be  formed  of  the  character  of  the 
celebrated  conspiracy  of  Georges  and  Pichegru,  the  mode  of 
its  discovery  and  the  secret  rules  by  which  its  plans  were 
detected  are  among  the  great  triumphs  of  police  skill.  From 
the  hour  when  the  conspirators  first  met  together  in  London 
to  that  last  fatal  moment  when  they  expired  in  the  Temple, 
the  agents  of  Fouche  never  ceased  to  track  them. 

Their  individual  tastes  and  ambitions  were  studied,  their 
habits  carefully  investigated,  everything  that  could  give  a 
clew  to  their  turn  of  thought  or  mind  well  weighed  ;  so  that 
the  Consular  Government  was  not  only  in  possession  of  all 
their  names  and  rank,  but  knew  thoroughly  the  exact  amount 
of  complicity  attaching  to  each,  and  could  distinguish  be- 
tween the  reckless  violence  of  Georges  and  the  more  tempered 
but  higher  ambition  of  Moreau.  It  was  a  long  while  doubt- 
ful whether  the  great  general  would  be  implicated  in  the 
scheme.  His  habitual  reserve  —  a  habit  less  of  caution  than 
of  constitutional  delicacy — had  led  him  to  few  intimacies, 
and  nothing  like  even  one  close  friendship ;  he  moved  little 
in  society ;  he  corresponded  with  none,  save  on  the  duties  of 
the  senice.  Fouche's  well-known  boast  of,  "  Give  me  two 
words  of  a  man's  writing,  and  I  '11  hang  him,"  were  then 
scarcely  applicable  here. 

To  attack  such  a  man  unsuccessfully,  to  arraign  liim  on  a 
weak  indictment,  would  have  been  ruin  ;  and  yet  IJonaparte's 
jealousy  of  his  great  rival  pushed  him  even  to  tliis  peril, 
rather  than  risk  the  growing  popularity  of  his  name  with  the 
army. 

Fouche,  and,  it  is  said  also,  Talleyrand,  did  all  they  could 
to  dissuade  the  First  Consul  from  this  attempt ;   but  he  was 


468  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

fixed  and  immutable  in  his  resolve,  and  the  Police  Minister 
at  once  addressed  himself  to  his  task  with  all  his  accustomed 
cleverness. 

High  play  was  one  of  the  great  vices  of  the  day.  It  was 
a  time  of  wild  and  varied  excitement,  and  men  sought  even 
in  their  dissipations  the  whirlwind  passions  that  stirred  them 
in  active  life.  Moreau,  however,  was  no  gambler ;  it  was 
said  that  he  never  could  succeed  in  learning  a  game.  He 
whose  mind  could  comprehend  the  most  complicated  question 
of  strategy  was  obliged  to  confess  himself  conquered  by 
ecarte !  So  much  for  the  vaunted  intellectuality  of  the  play 
table !  Neither  was  he  addicted  to  wine.  All  his  habits 
were  temperate,  even  to  the  extent  of  unsociality. 

A  man  who  spoke  little  and  wrote  less,  who  indulged  in  no 
dissipations  nor  seemed  to  have  taste  for  any,  was  a  difficult 
subject  to  treat ;  and  so  Fouche  found,  as  day  after  day  his 
spies  reported  to  him  the  utter  failure  of  all  their  schemes  to 
entrap  him.  Lajolais,  the  friend  of  Pichegru  and  the  man 
who  betrayed  him,  was  the  chief  instrument  the  Police  Min- 
ister used  to  obtain  secret  information.  Being  well  born, 
and  possessed  of  singularly  pleasing  manners,  he  had  the 
entree  of  the  best  society  of  Paris,  where  his  gay,  easy 
humor  made  him  a  great  favorite.  Lajolais,  however,  could 
never  penetrate  into  the  quiet  domesticity  of  Moreau's  life, 
nor  make  any  greater  inroad  on  his  intimacy  than  a  courteous 
salutation  as  they  passed  each  other  in  the  garden  of  the 
Luxembourg.  At  the  humble  restaurant  where  he  dined 
each  day  for  two  francs,  the  "  General,"  as  he  was  distinc- 
tively called,  never  spoke  to  any  one.  Unobtrusive  and 
quiet,  he  occupied  a  little  table  in  a  recess  of  the  window, 
and  arose  the  moment  he  finished  his  humble  meal.  After 
this  he  was  to  be  seen  in  the  garden  of  the  Luxembourg, 
with,  a  cigar  and  a  book,  or  sometimes  without  either,  seated 
pensively  under  a  tree  for  hours  together. 

If  he  had  been  conscious  of  the  espionage,  established 
over  all  his  actions,  he  could  scarcely  have  adopted  a  more 
guarded  or  more  tantalizing  policy.  To  the  verbal  communi- 
cations of  Pichegru  and  Armand  Polignac,  he  returned  vague 
replies  ;  their  letters  he  never  answered  at  all ;  and  Lajolais 
had  to  confess  that  after  two  months  of  close  pursuit  the 
game  was  as  far  from  him  as  ever ! 


THE   CABINET   OF  A   CIIEF-DK-P(^LICE.  469 

''You  have  come  to  repeat  the  old  song  tome,  Monsieur 
Lajolais,"  said  Fouehe  one  evening,  as  his  wily  subordinate 
entered  the  room;   "'  you  have  nothing  to  tell  me,  eh?  " 

"  Very  little,  Monsieur  le  Ministre,  but  still  something. 
I  have  at  last  found  out  where  Moreau  spends  all  his  even- 
ings. I  told  you  that  about  half-past  nine  o'clock  eveiy 
night  all  lights  were  extinguished  in  his  quarters,  and,  from 
the  unbroken  stillness,  it  was  conjectured  that  he  had  retired 
to  bed.  Now,  it  seems  that  about  an  hour  later  he  is  accus- 
tomed to  leave  his  house,  and  crossing  the  Place  de  I'Odeon, 
to  enter  the  little  sti-eet  called  the  AUee  de  Caire,  where,  in  a 
small  house  next  but  one  to  the  corner,  resides  a  certain  offi- 
cer, en  retndte^  —  a  Colonel  Mahon  of  the  Cuu-assiers." 

"A  Royalist?" 

''  This  is  suspected,  but  not  known.  His  politics,  how- 
ever, are  not  in  question  here ;  the  attraction  is  of  a  different 
order." 

''  Ha !  I  perceive  ;  he  has  a  wife  or  a  daughter." 

"  Better  still,  a  mistress.  You  may  have  heard  of  the 
famous  Caroline  de  Stassart,  that  married  a  Dutchman 
named  D'Aerschot." 

"  Madame  Laure,  as  they  called  her,"  said  Fouehe, 
laughing. 

''  The  same.  She  has  lived  as  Mahon's  wife  for  some 
years,  and  was  as  such  introduced  into  society;  in  fact, 
th^e  is  no  reason,  seeing  what  society  is  in  these  days,  that 
she  should  not  participate  in  all  its  pleasures." 

''  No  matter  for  that,"  broke  in  Fouehe  ;  ''  Bonaparte  will 
not  have  it  so.  He  wishes  that  matters  should  go  back  to 
the  old  footing,  and  wisely  remarks  that  it  is  only  in  savage 
life  that  people  or  vices  go  without  clothing." 

"Be  it  so.  Monsieur.  In  the  present  case  no  such  step  is 
necessary.  I  know  her  maid,  and  from  her  I  have  heard  that 
her  mistress  is  heartily  tired  of  her  protector.  It  was  origi- 
nally a  sudden  fancy,  taken  when  she  knew  nothing  of  life, 
—  had  neither  seen  anything,  nor  been  herself  seen.  By  the 
most  wasteful  habits  she  has  dissipated  all,  or  nearly  all,  her 
own  large  fortune,  and  involved  Mahon  heavily  in  debt ;  and 
they  are  thus  reduced  to  a  life  of  obscurity  and  poverty,  — • 
the  very  things  the  least  endurable  to  all  her  notions." 


470  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"Well,  does  she  care  for  Moreau?"  asked  Fouche, 
quickly ;  for  all  stories  to  his  ear  only  resolved  themselves 
into  some  question  of  utility  or  gain. 

"No,  but  he  does  for  her.  About  a  year  back  she  did 
take  a  liking  to  him.  He  was  retui-ning  from  his  great  Ger- 
man campaign,  covered  with  honors  and  rich  in  fame ;  but 
as  her  imagination  is  captivated  by  splendor,  while  her  heart 
remains  perfectly  cold  and  intact,  Moreau's  simple,  unpre- 
tending habits  quickly  effaced  the  memory  of  his  hard-won 
glory,  and  now  she  is  quite  indifferent  to  him." 

' '  And  who  is  her  idol  now,  —  for  of  course  she  has  one  ?  " 
asked  Fouche. 

"  You  would  scarcely  guess,"  said  Lajolais. 

'^  Parbleu!  I  hope  it  is  not  myself,"  said  Fouche, 
laughing. 

"  No,  Monsieur  le  Ministre,  her  admiration  is  not  so  well 
placed.  The  man  who  has  captivated  her  present  fancy  is 
neither  good-looking  nor  well-mannered ;  he  is  short  and 
abrupt  of  speech,  careless  in  dress,  utterly  indifferent  to 
woman's  society,  and  almost  rude  to  them." 

"  You  have  drawn  the  very  picture  of  a  man  to  be  adored 
b}^  them,"  said  Fouche,  with  a  dry  laugh. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  the  other  with  a  sigh;  "  or  General 
Ney  would  not  have  made  this  conquest." 

"  Ah !  it  is  Ne}^  then.     And  he,  what  of  him?  " 

"  It  is  hard  to  say.  As  long  as  she  lived  in  a  grand  house 
of  the  Rue  St.  Georges,  where  he  could  dine  fom*  days  a 
week,  and  in  his  dii'ty  boots  and  unbrushed  frock  mix  with 
all  the  fashion  and  elegance  of  the  capital ;  while  he  could 
stretch  full  length  on  a  Persian  Ottoman,  and  brush  the 
cinders  from  his  cigar  against  a  statuette  by  Canova  or  a 
gold  embroidered  hanging ;  while  in  the  midst  of  the  most 
voluptuous  decorations  he  alone  could  be  dirty  and  uncared 
for,  —  I  really  believe  that  he  did  care  for  her,  at  least,  so 
far  as  ministering  to  his  own* enjoyments ;  but  in  a  miserable 
lodging  of  the  AUee  de  Caire,  without  equipage,  lackeys, 
liveried  footmen  —  " 

"To  be  sure,"  interrupted  Fouche,  "  one  might  as  well 
pretend  to  be  fascinated  by  the  beauty  of  a  landscape  the 
day  after  it  has  been  desolated  by  an  earthquake.     Ney  is 


THE   CABINET  OF  A   CHEF-DE-POLICE.  471 

right !  Well,  now,  Mousieur  Lajolais,  where  does  all  this 
bring  us  to  ?  " 

"  Very  near  to  the  end  of  our  journey,  Monsieur  le  ]\Ii- 
nistre.  Madame,  or  Mademoiselle,  is  most  anxious  to  regain 
her  former  position ;  she  longs  for  all  the  luxurious  splendor 
she  used  to  live  in.  Let  us  but  show  her  this  rich  reward, 
and  she  will  be  our  own !  " 

"In  my  trade.  Monsieur  Lajolais,  generalities  are  worth 
nothing.  Give  me  details ;  let  me  know  how  you  would 
proceed." 

"  Easily  enough,  sir ;  Mahon  must  first  of  all  be  disposed 
of,  and  perhaps  the  best  way  will  be  to  have  him  arrested 
for  debt.  This  will  not  be  difficult,  for  his  bills  are  every- 
where. Once  in  the  Temple,  she  will  never  think  more  of 
him.  It  must  then  be  her  task  to  obtain  the  most  complete 
influence  over  Moreau.  vShe  must  affect  the  deepest  interest 
in  the  Royalist  cause :  I  '11  furnish  her  with  all  the  watch- 
words of  the  party ;  and  Moreau,  who  never  trusts  a  man, 
will  open  all  his  confidence  to  a  woman." 

"  Very  good,  go  on  !  "  cried  Fouche,  gathering  fresh  inter- 
est as  the  plot  began  to  reveal  itself  before  him. 

"He  hates  writing;  she  will  be  his  secretary,  embodying 
all  his  thoughts  and  suggestions,  and  now  and  then,  for  her 
own  guidance,  obtaining  little  scraps  in  his  hand.  If  he  be 
too  cautious  here,  I  will  advise  her  to  remove  to  Geneva  for 
change  of  air:  he  likes  Switzerland,  and  will  follow  her 
immediately." 

"  This  will  do  ;  at  least  it  looks  practicable,"  said  Fouche, 
thoughtfully ;  "is  she  equal  to  the  part  you  would  assign 
her?" 

"  Ay,  sir,  and  to  a  higher  one,  too  !  She  has  considerable 
ability,  and  great  ambition.  Her  present  narrow  fortune  has 
irritated  and  disgusted  her;  the  moment  is  most  favorable 
for  us." 

"  If  she  should  play  us  false,"  said  Fouche,  half  aloud. 

"  From  all  I  can  learn,  there  is  no  risk  of  this.  There 
is  a  headlong  determination  in  her,  when  once  she  has  con- 
ceived a  plan,  from  which  nothing  turns  her;  overlooking 
all  but  her  object,  she  will  brave  anything,  do  anything,  to 
attain  it." 


472  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"  Bonaparte  was  right  in  what  he  said  of  Necker's  daugh- 
ter," said  Fouche,  musingly,  "  and  there  is  no  doubt  it  adds 
wonderfully  to  a  woman's  head  that  she  has  no  heart.  And 
now,  the  price,  Master  Lajolais !  remember  that  our  treasury 
received  some  deadly  wounds  lately  —  what  is  to  be  the 
price  ?  " 

"  It  may  be  a  smart  one ;  she  is  not  likely  to  be  a  cheap 
purchase." 

"In  the  event  of  success,  I  mean  of  such  proof  as  may 
enable  us  to  arrest  Moreau  and  commit  him  to  prison  — " 
He  stopped  as  he  got  thus  far,  and  paused  for  some  seconds. 
"  Bethink  you,  then,  Lajolais,"  said  he,  "  what  a  grand  step 
this  would  be,  and  how  terrible  the  consequences  if  under- 
taken on  rash  or  insufficient  grounds.  Moreau's  popularity 
with  the  army  is  only  second  to  one  man's  !  His  unambitious 
character  has  made  him  many  friends  ;  he  has  few,  very  few, 
enemies." 

"But  you  need  not  push  matters  to  the  last:  an  implied 
but  not  a  proven  guilt,  would  be  enough ;  and  you  can  par- 
don him !  " 

"  Ay,  Lajolais,  but  who  would  pardon  us?  "  cried  Fouche, 
carried  beyond  all  the  bounds  of  his  prudence  by  the  thought 
of  a  danger  so  imminent.  "  Well,  well,  let  us  come  back; 
the  price  — will  that  do?  "  And  taking  up  a  pen  he  scratched 
some  figures  on  a  piece  of  paper. 

Lajolais  smiled  dubiously,  and  added  a  unit  to  the  left  of 
the  sum. 

"What!  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs!"  cried 
Fouche. 

"And  a  cheap  bargain,  too,"  said  the  other;  "  for  after 
all  it  is  only  the  price  of  a  ticket  in  the  lotter}^  of  which  the 
great  prize  is  General  Ney !  " 

"  You  say  truly,"  said  the  minister ;   "  be  it  so." 

"Write  your  name  there,  then,"  said  Lajolais,  "beneath 
those  figures ;  that  will  be  warranty  sufficient  for  my  nego- 
tiation, and  leave  the  rest  to  me." 

"Nature  evidently  meant  you  for  a  Chef-de-Police, 
Master  Lajolais." 

"Or  a  Cardinal,  Monsieur  le  Ministre,"  said  the  other,  as 
he  folded  up  the  paper,  a  little  insignificant  slip,  scrawled  over 


THE   CABINET   OF   A   CIIEF-DE-POLICE.  473 

with  a  few  figures  and  an  almost  illegible  word,  and  yet 
pregnant  with  infamy  to  one,  banishment  to  another,  ruin 
and  insanity  to  a  third. 

This  sad  record  need  not  be  carried  further.  It  is  far 
from  a  pleasant  task  to  tell  of  baseness  unredeemed  by  one 
trait  of  virtue,  of  treachery  unrepented  even  by  regret. 
History  records  Moreau's  unhappy  destiny ;  the  pages  of 
private  memoir  tell  of  Ney's  disastrous  connection  ;  our  own 
humble  reminiscences  speak  of  poor  Mahon's  fate,  —  the 
least  known  of  all,  but  the  most  sorrowful  victim  of  a 
woman's  treachery. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

A    GLANCE    AT    THE    "PREFECTURE    DE    POLICE." 

Poor  Mahon's  melancholy  story  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  me,  and  I  returned  to  Paris  execrating  the  whole  race 
of  spies  and  mouchards,  and  despising  with  a  most  hearty 
contempt  a  Government  compelled  to  use  such  agencies  for 
its  existence.  It  seemed  to  me  so  utterly  impossible  to 
escape  the  snares  of  a  system  so  artfully  interwoven,  and  so 
vain  to  rely  on  innocence  as  a  protection,  that  I  felt  a  kind 
of  reckless  hardihood  as  to  whatever  might  betide  me,  and 
rode  into  the  Cour  of  the  Prefecture  with  a  bold  indifference 
as  to  my  fate  I  have  often  wondered  at  since. 

The  horse  on  which  I  was  mounted  was  immediately  recog- 
nized as  I  entered,  and  the  obsequious  salutations  that  met 
me  showed  that  I  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  trusty  followers 
of  the  minister ;  and  in  this  capacity  was  I  ushered  into  a 
large  waiting-room,  where  a  considerable  number  of  persons 
were  assembled  whose  air  and  appearance,  now  that  neces- 
sity for  disguise  was  over,  unmistakably  pronounced  them  to 
be  spies  of  the  police.  Some,  indeed,  were  occupied  in 
taking  off  their  false  whiskers  and  mustaches ;  others  were 
removing  shades  from  their  eyes ;  and  one  was  carefully 
opening  what  had  been  the  hump  on  his  back  in  search  of  a 
paper  he  was  anxious  to  discover. 

I  had  very  little  difficulty  in  ascertaining  that  these  were 
all  the  very  lowest  order  of  mouchards,  whose  sphere  of  duty 
rarely  led  beyond  the  Fauxbourg  or  the  Battignolles,  and 
indeed  soon  saw  that  my  own  appearance  amongst  them  led 
to  no  little  surprise  and  astonishment. 

"You  are  looking  for  Nicquard,  Monsieur?"  said  one, 
"but  he  has  not  come  yet." 

"  No;  Monsieur  wants  to  see  Boule-de-Fer,"  said  another. 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  "  PREFECTURE   DE  POLICE."  475 

"  Here  's  Jose  can  fetch  him,"  cried  a  third. 

"He'll  have  to  carry  him,  then,"  growled  out  another, 
"  for  I  saw  him  in  the  Morgue  this  morning  I  " 

"  What  !  dead?  "  exclaimed  several  together. 

"As  dead  as  four  stabs  in  the  heart  and  lungs  can  make 
a  man!  He  must  have  been  meddling  where  he  had  no 
business,  for  there  was  a  piece  of  a  lace  rufHe  found  in  his 
fingers." 

"^it/i,  voila!''  cried  another,  "that  comes  of  mixing  in 
high  society." 

I  did  not  wait  for  the  discussion  that  followed,  but  stole 
quietly  away  as  the  disputants  were  waxing  warm.  Instead 
of  turning  into  the  Cour  again,  however,  I  passed  out  into  a 
corridor,  at  the  end  of  which  was  a  door  of  green  cloth. 
Pushing  open  this,  I  found  myself  in  a  chamber,  where  a 
single  clerk  was  writing  at  a  table. 

"  You  're  late  to-day,  and  he  's  not  in  a  good  humor,"  said 
he,  scarcely  looking  up  from  his  paper,  "  go  in  !  " 

Resolving  to  see  my  adventure  to  the  end,  I  asked  no 
further  questions,  but  passed  on  to  the  room  beyond.  A 
person  who  stood  within  the  doorway  withdrew  as  I  entered, 
and  I  found  myself  standing  face  to  face  with  the  Marquis 
de  Maurepas,  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  the  Minister 
Fouche.  He  was  standing  at  the  fireplace  as  I  came  in,  read- 
ing a  newspaper,  but  no  sooner  had  he  caught  sight  of  me 
then  he  laid  it  down,  and,  with  his  hands  crossed  behind  his 
back,  continued  steadily  staring  at  me. 

"  BiahUr'  exclaimed  he,  at  last,  "  how  came  j'ou  here?  " 

"  Nothing  more  naturally,  su',  than  from  the  wish  to  re- 
store what  you  were  so  good  as  to  lend  me,  and  express  my 
sincere  gratitude  for  a  most  hospitable  reception." 

"  And  who  admitted  you?" 

"  I  fancy  your  saddle-cloth  was  my  introduction,  sir,  for 
it  was  speedily  recognized.  Gesler's  cap  was  never  held  in 
greater  honor." 

"  You  are  a  very  courageous  young  gentleman,  I  must  say 
—  very  courageous,  indeed,"  said  he,  with  a  sardonic  grin 
that  was  anything  but  encouraging. 

"  The  better  chance  that  I  may  find  favor  with  Monsieur 
de  Fouche,"  replied  I. 


476  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen,  sir,"  said  he,  seating  himself 
in  his  chair,  and  motioning  me  to  a  spot  in  front  of  it.  "  Who 
are  you?  " 

"  A  lieutenant  of  the  Xinth  Hussars,  sir;  by  name  Mau- 
rice Tiernay." 

"  I  don't  care  for  that,"  said  he,  impatiently  ;  "  what 's  your 
occupation — how  do  you  live — with  whom  do  you  associate  ?  " 

"  I  have  neither  means  nor  associates.  I  have  been 
liberated  from  the  Temple  but  a  few  days  back ;  and  what 
is  to  be  my  future  and  where  are  facts  of  which  I  know 
as  little  as  does  Monsieui-  de  Fouche  of  my  past  history." 

"  It  would  seem  that  every  adventurer,  every  fellow  desti- 
tute of  home,  family,  fortune,  and  position,  thinks  that  his 
natural  refuge  lies  in  this  Ministry,  and  that  I  must  be  his 
guardian." 

"  I  never  thought  so,  sir." 

"Then  why  are  you  here?  What  other  than  personal 
reasons  procures  me  the  honor  of  this  visit?" 

"  As  Monsieur  de  Fouche  will  not  believe  in  m}^  sense  of 
gratitude,  perhaps  he  may  put  some  faith  in  my  curiosity, 
and  excuse  the  natural  anxiety  I  feel  to  know  if  Monsieur 
de  Maurepas  has  really  benefited  by  the  pleasui-e  of  my 
society." 

"Hardi,  Monsieur,  bien  hardi,"  said  the  Minister,  with  a 
peculiar  expression  of  irony  about  the  mouth  that  made  me 
almost  shudder.  He  rang  a  little  hand-bell  as  he  spoke,  and 
a  sei'vant  made  his  appearance. 

"  You  have  forgotten  to  leave  me  my  snuff-box,  Geoffroy," 
said  he  mildly  to  the  valet,  who  at  once  left  the  room  and 
speedily  retm'ned  with  a  magnificently-chased  gold  box, 
on  which  the  initials  of  the  First  Consul  were  embossed  in 
diamonds. 

"Ai'i'9'^g6  those  papers,  and  place  those  books  on  the 
shelves,"  said  the  Minister;  and  then  turning  to  me,  as  if 
resuming  a  previous  conversation,  went  on,  — 

"As  to  that  memoir  of  which  we  were  speaking  t'other 
night,  Monsieur,  it  would  be  exceedingly  interesting  just 
now ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  will  see  the  propriet}^  of 
confiding  to  me  what  you  already  promised  to  Monsieur  de 
Maurepas.     That  will  do,  Geoffroy  ;  leave  us." 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  "  PREFECTUKE   DE   POLICE."   477 

The  sen^ant  retii-ed,  and  we  were  once  more  alone. 

"  I  possess  no  secrets,  sir,  worthy  the  notice  of  the 
Minister  of  Police,"  said  I,  boldly. 

"  Of  that  I  may  presume  to  be  the  better  judge,"  said 
Fouche,  calml}^  ''  But  waiving  this  question,  there  is 
another  of  some  importance.  You  have,  partly  by  accident, 
partly  by  a  boldness  not  devoid  of  peril,  obtained  some  little 
insight  into  the  habits  and  details  of  this  Ministry ;  at  least, 
you  have  seen  enough  to  suspect  more,  and  misrepresent 
what  you  cannot  comprehend.  Now,  sir,  there  is  an  almost 
universal  custom  in  all  secret  societies  of  making  those  who 
intrude  surreptitiously  within  their  limits  to  take  every  oath 
and  pledge  of  that  society,  and  to  assume  every  responsibility 
that  attaches  to  its  voluntary  members  — " 

"  Excuse  my  interrupting  you,  sir;  but  my  intrusion  was 
purely  involuntary ;  I  was  made  the  dupe  of  a  police  spy." 

"Having  ascertained  which,"  resumed  he,  coldly,  ''your 
wisest  policy  would  have  been  to  have  kept  the  whole  inci- 
dent for  yourself  alone,  and  neither  have  uttered  one  syllable 
about  it,  nor  ventured  to  come  here,  as  you  have  done,  to 
display  what  you  fancy  to  be  your  power  over  the  Minister 
of  Police.  You  are  a  very  young  man,  and  the  lesson  may 
possibly  be  of  service  to  you;  and  never  forget  that  to 
attempt  a  contest  of  address  with  those  whose  habits  have 
taught  them  every  wile  and  subtlety  of  their  fellow-men  will 
always  be  a  failure.  This  Ministry  would  be  a  sorry  engine 
of  government  if  men  of  your  stamp  could  outwit  it." 

I  stood  abashed  and  confused  under  a  rebuke  which  at  the 
same  time  I  felt  to  be  but  half  desel•^'ed. 

''  Do  you  understand  Spanish?  "  asked  he,  suddenly. 

"  No,  sir,  not  a  word." 

"I'm  sorry  for  it;  you  should  learn  that  language  without 
loss  of  time.  Leave  your  address  with  my  secretary,  and 
call  here  by  Monday  or   Tuesday  next." 

"  If  I  may  presume  so  far,  sir,"  said  I,  with  a  great  effort 
to  seem  collected,  "  I  would  infer  that  your  intention  is  to 
employ  me  in  some  capacity  or  other.  It  is,  therefore, 
better  I  should  say  at  once  I  have  neither  the  ability  nor  the 
desire  for  such  occupation.  I  have  always  been  a  soldier. 
Whatever  reverses  of  fortune  I  may  meet  with,  I  would  wish 


478  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

still  to  continue  in  the  same  career.  At  all  events,  I  could 
never  become  a — a —  " 

"  Spy.  Say  the  word  out;  its  meaning  conveys  nothing 
offensive  to  my  ears,  young  man.  I  may  grieve  over  the 
coiTuption  that  requires  such  a  system;  but  I  do  not 
confound  the  remedy  with  the  disease." 

''My  sentiments  are  different,  sir,"  said  I  resolutely,  as  I 
moved  towards  the  door.  ' '  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  you  a 
good  morning." 

"Stay  a  moment,  Tiernay,"  said  he,  looking  for  some- 
thing amongst  his  papers;  "there  are,  probably,  situations 
wher.e  all  your  scruples  could  find  accommodation,  and  even 
be  serviceable,  too." 

"  I  would  rather  not  place  them  in  peril,  Monsieur  Le 
Ministre." 

"There  are  people  in  this  city  of  Paris  who  would  not 
despise  my  i^rotection,  young  man,  some  of  them  to  the  full 
as  well  supplied  with  the  gifts  of  fortune  as  Monsieur 
Tiernay." 

"And,  doubtless,  more  fitted  to  deserve  it!"  said  I, 
sarcastically;  for  every  moment  now  rendered  me  more 
courageous. 

"And,  doubtless,  more  fitted  to  deserve  it/'  repeated  he 
after  me,  with  a  wave  of  the  hand  in  token  of  adieu. 

I  bowed  respectfully,  and  was  retiring,  when  he  called  out 
in  a  low  and  gentle  voice,  — 

"Before  you  go.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay,  I  will  thank  you  to 
restore  my  snuff-box." 

"  Your  snuff-box,  sir?  "  cried  I,  indignantly,  "  what  do  I 
know  of  it?" 

"  In  a  moment  of  inadvertence,  j^ou  may  probably  have 
placed  it  in  your  pocket,"  said  he,  smiling;  "do  me  the 
favor  to  search  there." 

"This  is  unnecessary  insult,  sir,"  said  I  fiercely;  "and 
you  forget  that  I  am  a  French  oflScer !  " 

"  It  is  of  more  consequence  that  you  should  remember  it," 
said  he,  calmly ;   "  and  now,  sir,  do  as  I  have  told  3"0U." 

"It  is  well,  sir,  that  this  scene  has  no  witness,"  said  I, 
boiling  over  with  passion,  "or,  by  Heaven,  all  the  dignity 
of  your  station  should  not  save  you." 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  "PREFECTURE  DE  POLICE."  479 

"Your  observation  is  most  just,"  said  he,  "with  the  same 
coolness.  ''It  is  as  well  that  we  are  quite  alone;  and  for 
this  reason  I  beg  to  repeat  my  request.  If  you  persist  in  a 
refusal,  and  force  me  to  ring  that  bell  —  " 

'^  You  would  not  dare  to  offer  me  such  an  indignity,"  said 
I,  trembling  with  rage. 

"  You  leave  me  no  alternative,  sir,"  said  he,  rising,  and 
taking  the  bell  in  his  hand.  "  My  honor  is  also  engaged  in 
this  question.     I  have  preferred  a  charge  —  " 

"You  have,"  cried  I,  interrupting,  "and  for  whose  false- 
hood I  am  resolved  to  hold  you  responsible." 

"  To  prove  which  you  must  show  your  innocence." 

"  There,  then,  —  there  are  my  pockets;  here  are  the  few 
things  I  possess.  This  is  my  pocket-book,  my  purse.  Oh, 
heavens,  what  is  this?"  cried  I,  as  I  drew  forth  the  gold 
box,  along  with  the  other  contents  of  my  pocket ;  and  then 
staggering  back,  I  fell,  overwhelmed  with  shame  and  sick- 
ness, against  the  wall.  For  some  seconds  I  neither  saw  nor 
heard  anything  ;  a  vague  sense  of  ineffable  disgrace,  of  some 
ignominy  that  made  life  a  misery,  was  over  me,  and  I  closed 
my  eyes  with  the  wish  never  to  open  them  more. 

"  The  box  has  a  peculiar  value  in  my  eyes,  sir,"  said  he  ; 
"  it  was  a  present  from  the  First  Consul,  otherwise  I  might 
have  hesitated  —  " 

"  Oh,  su',  you  cannot,  you  dare  not,  suppose  me  guilty  of 
a  theft !  You  seem  bent  on  being  my  ruin  ;  but,  for  mercy's 
sake,  let  your  hatred  of  me  take  some  other  shape  than  this. 
Involve  me  in  what  snares,  what  conspiracies  you  will,  give 
me  what  share  you  please  in  any  guilt,  but  spare  me  the 
degradation  of  such  a  shame  ! " 

He  seemed  to  enjoy  the  torments  I  was  suffering,  and 
actually  to  revel  in  the  contemplation  of  my  misery ;  for  he 
never  spoke  a  word,  but  continued  steadily  to  stare  me  in 
the  face. 

"  Sit  down  here,  Monsieur,"  said  he,  at  length,  while  he 
pointed  to  a  chair  near  him ;  "I  wish  to  say  a  few  words  to 
you,  in  all  seriousness,  and  in  good  faith  also." 

I  seated  myself,  and  he  went  on. 

"The  events  of  the  last  two  days  must  have  made  sucli 
an  impression  on  your  mind  that  even  the  most  remarkable 


480  MAUKICE    TIERNAY. 

incidents  of  your  life  could  not  compete  with.  You  fancied 
yourself  a  great  discoverer,  and  that  by  the  happy  conjunc- 
ture of  intelligence  and  accident  you  had  actually  fathomed 
the  depths  of  that  wonderful  system  of  police,  which,  more 
powerful  than  armies  or  councils,  is  the  real  government  of 
France.  I  will  not  stop  now  to  convince  you  that  you  have 
not  wandered  out  of  the  very  shallowest  channels  of  this 
system.  It  is  enough  that  you  have  been  admitted  to  an 
audience  with  me  to  suggest  an  opposite  conviction,  and  give 
to  your  recital,  when  you  repeat  the  tale,  a  species  of  impor- 
tance. Now,  sir,  my  counsel  to  you  is,  never  to  repeat  it, 
and  for  this  reason,  —  nobody  possessed  of  common  powers 
of  judgment  will  ever  believe  you !  not  one,  sir !  No  one 
would  ever  believe  that  Monsieur  Fouche  had  made  so  grave 
a  mistake,  no  more  than  he  would  believe  that  a  man  of  good 
name  or  birth,  a  French  officer,  could  have  stolen  a  snuff-box. 
You  see,  Monsieur  de  Tiernay,  that  I  acquit  you  of  this 
shameful  act.  Imitate  my  generosity,  sir,  and  forget  all 
that  you  have  witnessed  since  Tuesday  last.  I  have  given 
you  good  advice,  sir ;  if  I  find  that  you  profit  by  it  we  may 
see  more  of  each  other." 

Scarcely  appreciating  the  force  of  his  parable  and  think- 
ing of  nothing  save  the  vindication  of  my  honor,  I  muttered 
a  few  unmeaning  words  and  withdrew,  glad  to  escape  a  pres- 
ence which  had  assumed  to  my  terrified  senses  all  the  diaboli- 
cal subtlety  of  Satanic  influence.  Trusting  that  no  future 
accident  of  my  life  should  ever  bring  me  within  such  pre- 
cincts, I  hurried  from  the  place  as  though  it  were  contaminated 
and  plague-stricken. 


CHAPTER   XLVII. 

*'  THE    VILLAGE    OF    SCIIWARTZ-ACH." 

I  WAS  destitute  enough  when  I  quitted  the  Temple,  a  few 
days  back ;  but  my  condition  now  was  sadder  still,  for  in 
addition  to  my  poverty  and  friendlessness  I  had  imbibed  a 
degree  of  distrust  and  suspicion  that  made  me  shun  my 
fellow-men,  and  actually  shrink  from  the  contact  of  a 
stranger.  The  commonest  show  of  courtesy,  the  most 
ordinary  exercise  of  politeness,  struck  me  as  the  secret  wiles 
of  that  police  whose  machinations,  I  fancied,  were  still 
spread  around  me.  I  had  conceived  a  most  intense  hatred 
of  civilization,  or  at  least  of  what  I  rashly  supposed  to  be 
the  inherent  \ices  of  civilized  life.  I  longed  for  what  I 
deemed  must  be  the  glorious  independence  of  a  savage.  If 
I  could  but  discover  this  Paradise  beyond  seas,  of  which  the 
marquise  raved  so  much ;  if  I  only  could  find  out  that 
glorious  land  which  neither  knew  secret  intrigues  nor  con- 
spiracies, —  I  should  leave  France  forever,  taking  any  con- 
dition, or  braving  any  mischances  fate  might  have  in  store 
for  me. 

There  was  something  peculiarly  offensive  in  the  treatment 
I  had  met  with.  Imprisoned  on  suspicion,  I  was  liberated 
without  any  amende,  —  neither  punished  like  a  guilty  man, 
nor  absolved  as  an  innocent  one.  I  was  sent  out  upon  the 
world  as  though  the  State  would  not  own  nor  acknowledge 
me,  —  a  dangerous  practice,  as  I  often  thought,  if  only 
adopted  on  a  large  scale.  It  was  some  days  before  I  could 
summon  resolution  to  ascertain  exactly  my  position ;  at  last 
I  did  muster  up  courage,  and  under  pretence  of  wishing  to 
address  a  letter  to  myself,  I  applied  at  the  Ministry  of  War 
for  the  address  of  Lieutenant  Tiernay  of  the  Ninth  Hussars. 
I  was  one  of  a  large  crowd  similarly  engaged,  —  some  in- 
quiring for  sons  that  had  fallen  in  battle,  or  husbands  or 

31 


482  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

fathers  in  far-away  countries.  The  office  was  only  open 
each  morning  for  two  hours,  and  consequently  as  the  expu-a- 
tion  of  the  time  drew  nigh  the  eagerness  of  the  inquirers 
became  far  greater,  and  the  contrast  with  the  cold  apathy  of 
the  clerks  the  more  strongly  marked.  I  had  given  way  to 
many  who  were  weaker  than  myself,  and  less  able  to  buffet 
with  the  crowd  about  them ;  and  at  last,  when,  wearied  by 
waiting,  I  was  drawing  nigh  the  table,  my  attention  was 
struck  by  an  old,  a  very  old  man,  who  with  a  beard  white  as 
snow,  and  long  mustaches  of  the  same  color,  was  making 
great  efforts  to  gain  the  front  rank.  I  stretched  out  my 
hand  and  caught  his,  and  by  considerable  exertion  at  last 
succeeded  in  placing  him  in  front  of  me. 

He  thanked  me  fervently,  in  a  strange  kind  of  German, 
2^  patois  I  had  never  heard  before,  and  kissed  my  hand  three 
or  four  times  over  in  his  gratitude ;  indeed,  so  absorbed  was 
he  for  the  time  in  his  desire  to  thank  me  that  I  had  to  recall 
him  to  the  more  pressing  reason  of  his  presence,  and  warn 
him  that  but  a  few  minutes  more  of  the  hour  remained 
free. 

"Speak  up,"  cried  the  clerk,  as  the  old  man  muttered 
something  in  a  low  and  very  indistinct  voice ;  ' '  speak  up ! 
and  remember,  my  friend,  that  we  do  not  profess  to  give 
information  further  back  than  the  times  of  Louis  Quatorze." 

This  allusion  to  the  years  of  the  old  man  was  loudly 
applauded  by  his  colleagues,  who  drew  nigh  to  stare  at  the 
cause  of  it. 

"  Sacre  hleu  !  he  is  talking  Hebrew,"  said  another,  "  and 
asking  for  a  friend  who  fell  at  Ramoth  Gilead." 

"He  is  speaking  German,"  said  I,  peremptorily,  "and 
asking  for  a  relative  whom  he  believes  to  have  embarked 
with  the  expedition  to  Egypt." 

"Are  you  a  sworn  interpreter,  young  man?"  asked  an 
older  and  more  consequential-looking  personage. 

I  was  about  to  return  a  hasty  reply  to  this  impertinence ; 
but  I  thought  of  the  old  man,  and  the  few  seconds  that  still 
remained  for  his  inquiry,  and  I  smothered  my  anger,  and 
was  silent. 

"What  rank  did  he  hold?"  inquired  one  of  the  clerks, 
who  had  listened  with  rather  more  patience  to  the  old  man. 


"THE  VILLAGE  OF  SCHWARTZ-ACH."  483 

I  translated  the  question  for  the  peasant,  who  in  reply  con- 
fessed that  he  could  not  tell.  The  youth  was  his  only  son, 
and  had  left  home  many  years  before,  and  never  written. 
A  neighbor  however,  who  had  travelled  in  foreign  parts,  had 
brought  tidings  that  he  had  gone  with  the  expedition  to 
Egypt,   and  was   already  high  in  the  French  army. 

"You  are  not  quite  certain  that  he  did  not  command  the 
army  of  P^gypt?  "  said  one  of  the  clerks,  in  mockery  of  the 
old  man's  story. 

''It  is  not  unlikely,"  said  the  peasant,  gravely;  "  he  was 
a  brave  and  a  bold  youth,  and  could  have  lifted  two  such  as 
you  with  one  hand,  and  hurled  you  out  of  that  window." 

"Let  us  hear  his  name  once  more,"  said  the  elder  clerk; 
"  it  is  worth  remembering." 

"  I  have  told  you  already.     It  was  Karl  Kleber." 

"  The  General  —  General  Kleber!  "  cried  three  or  four  in 
a  breath. 

"  Mayhap,"  was  all  the  reply. 

"  And  are  you  the  father  of  the  great  general  of  Egypt?  " 
asked  the  elder  with  an  air  of  deep  respect. 

"Kleber  is  my  son;  and  so  that  he  is  alive  and  well,  I 
care  little  if  a  general  or  simple  soldier." 

Not  a  word  was  said  in  answer  to  this  speech,  and  each 
seemed  to  feel  reluctant  to  tell  the  sad  tidings.  At  last  the 
elder  clerk  said,  "  You  have  lost  a  good  son,  and  France  one 
of  her  greatest  captains.     The  General  Kleber  is  dead." 

"  Dead  !  "  said  the  old  man,  slowly. 

"  In  the  very  moment  of  his  greatest  glory,  too,  when  he 
had  won  the  country  of  the  Pyramids,  and  made  Egypt  a 
colony  of  France." 

"  AVhen  did  he  die? "  said  the  peasant. 

"  The  last  accounts  from  the  East  brought  the  news;  and 
this  very  day  the  Council  of  State  has  accorded  a  pension  to 
his  family  of  ten  thousand  livres." 

"  They  may  keep  their  money.  I  am  all  that  remains, 
and  have  no  want  of  it ;  and  I  should  be  poorer  still  before 
I  'd  take  it." 

These  words  he  uttered  in  a  low,  harsh  tone,  and  pushed 
his  way  back  through  the  crowd. 

One  moment  more  was  enough  for  my  inquiry. 


484  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"Maurice  Tiernay,  of  the  Ninth?  —  destitue,"  was  the 
short  and  stunuiDg  answer  I  received. 

"Is  there  any  reason  alleged, — is  there  any  charge 
imputed  to  him?"  asked  I,  timidly. 

' '  3fa  foi  /  you  must  go  to  the  Minister  of  War  with  that 
question.  Perhaps  he  was  paymaster,  and  embezzled  the 
funds  of  the  regiment ;  perhaps  he  liked  Royalist  gold  better 
than  Republican  silver ;  or  perhaps  he  preferred  the  company 
of  the  baggage-train  and  the  ambulances  when  he  should 
have  been  at  the  head  of  his  squadron." 

I  did  not  care  to  listen  longer  to  this  impertinence,  and 
making  my  way  out  I  gained  the  street.  The  old  peasant 
was  still  standing  there,  like  one  stunned  and  overwhelmed 
by  some  great  shock,  and  neither  heeding  the  crowd  that 
passed  nor  the  groups  that  halted  occasionally  to  stare  at 
him. 

"Come  along  with  me,"  said  I,  taking  his  hand  in  mine. 
"Your  calamity  is  a  heavy  one,  but  mine  is  harder  to  bear 
up  against." 

He  suffered  himself  to  be  led  away  like  a  child,  and  never 
spoke  a  word  as  we  walked  along  towards  the  harriere^ 
beyond  which,  at  a  short  distance,  was  a  little  ordinary, 
where  I  used  to  dine.  There  we  had  our  dinner  together ; 
and  as  the  evening  wore  on,  the  old  man  rallied  enough  to 
tell  me  of  his  son's  early  life  and  his  departure  for  the  army. 
Of  his  great  career  I  could  speak  freely,  for  Kleber's  name 
was,  in  soldier  esteem,  scarcely  second  to  that  of  Bonaparte 
himself.  Not  all  the  praises  I  could  bestow,  however,  were 
sufficient  to  turn  the  old  man  from  his  stern  conviction  that 
a  peasant  in  the  Lech  Thai  was  a  more  noble  and  indepen- 
dent man  than  the  greatest  general  that  ever  marched  to 
victory. 

"We  have  been  some  centuries  there,"  said  he,  "and 
none  of  our  name  has  incurred  a  shadow  of  disgrace.  Why 
should  not  Karl  have  lived  like  his  ancestors  ?  " 

It  was  useless  to  appeal  to  the  glory  his  son  had  gained, 
the  noble  reputation  he  had  left  behind  him.  The  peasant 
saw  in  the  soldier  but  one  who  hired  out  his  courage  and  his 
blood,  and  deemed  the  calling  a  low  and  unworthy  one.  I 
suppose  I  was  not  the  first  who  in  the  effort  to  convince 


THE   VILLAGE   OF  SCHWARTZ- AC H."  485 

another  found  himself  shaken  in  his  own  convictions ;  for  I 
own  before  I  hiy  down  that  night  many  of  the  old  man's 
arguments  assumed  a  force  and  power  that  I  could  not  resist, 
and  held  possession  of  my  mind  even  after  I  fell  asleep.  In 
my  dreams  I  was  once  more  beside  the  American  lake,  and 
that  little  colony  of  simple  people  where  I  had  seen  all  that 
was  best  of  my  life,  and  learned  the  few  lessons  I  had  ever 
received  of  charity  and  good  nature. 

From  what  the  peasant  said,  the  primitive  habits  of  the 
Lech  Thai  must  be  almost  like  those  of  that  little  colony; 
and  I  willingly  assented  to  his  offer  to  accompany  him  in  his 
journey  homeward.  He  seemed  to  feel  a  kind  of  satisfaction 
in  turning  my  thoughts  away  from  a  career  that  he  held  so 
cheaply,  and  talked  enthusiastically  of  the  tranquil  life  of  the 
Bregenzer-wald. 

We  left  Paris  the  following  morning,  and  partly  by  dili- 
gence, partly  on  foot,  reached  Strasbourg  in  a  few  days; 
thence  we  proceeded  by  Kehl  to  Freyburg,  and  crossing  the 
Lake  of  Constance  at  Rorsbach,  we  entered  the  Bregenzer- 
wald  on  the  twelfth  morning  of  our  journey. 

I  suppose  that  most  men  preserve  fresher  memory  of  the 
stiiTing  and  turbulent  scenes  of  their  lives  than  of  the  more 
peaceful  and  tranquil  ones,  and  I  shall  not  be  deemed  singu- 
lar when  I  say  that  some  years  passed  over  me  in  this  quiet 
spot,  and  seemed  as  but  a  few  weeks.  The  old  peasant  was 
the  Vorsteher,  or  ruler  of  the  village,  by  whom  all  disputes 
were  settled,  and  all  litigation  of  an  humble  kind  decided,  — 
a  species  of  voluntary  jurisdiction  maintained  to  this  very 
day  in  that  primitive  region.  My  occupation  there  was  as  a 
species  of  secretary  to  the  court,  —  an  office  quite  new  to  the 
villagers,  but  which  served  to  impress  them  more  reverentially 
than  ever  in  favor  of  this  rude  justice.  My  legal  duties  over, 
I  became  a  vine-dresser,  a  wood-cutter,  or  a  deer-stalker,  as 
season  and  weather  dictated,  —  my  evenings  being  always 
devoted  to  the  task  of  a  schoolmaster.  A  curious  seminary 
was  it,  too,  embracing  every  class  from  childhood  to  advanced 
age,  all  eager  for  knowledge,  and  all  submitting  to  the  most 
patient  discipline  to  attain  it.  There  was  much  to  make  me 
happy  in  that  humble  lot.  I  had  the  love  and  esteem  of  all 
around  me ;    there  was   neither  a  harassing   doubt  for  the 


486  MAURICE    TIERNAY. 

future,  nor  the  rich  man's  contumely  to  oppress  me ;  my  life 
was  made  up  of  occupations  which  alternately  engaged  mind 
and  body ;  and,  above  all  and  worth  all  besides,  I  had  a 
sense  of  duty,  a  feeling  that  I  was  doing  that  which  was 
useful  to  my  fellow-men ;  and  however  great  may  be  a 
man's  station  in  life,  if  it  want  this  element,  the  humblest 
peasant  that  rises  to  his  daily  toil  has  a  nobler  and  a  better 
part. 

As  I  trace  these  lines,  how  many  memories  of  the  spot  are 
rising  before  me,  —  scenes  I  had  long  forgotten,  faces  I  had 
ceased  to  remember !  And  now  I  see  the  little  wooden 
bridge,  —  a  giant  tree,  guarded  by  a  single  rail,  that  crossed 
the  torrent  in  front  of  our  cottage  ;  and  I  behold  once  more 
the  little  waxen  image  of  the  Virgin  over  the  door,  in  whose 
glass  shrine  at  nightfall  a  candle  ever  burned ;  and  I  hear 
the  low  hum  of  the  villager's  prayer  as  the  Angelus  is  ring- 
ing, and  see  on  every  crag  or  cliff  the  homebound  hunter 
kneeling  in  his  deep  devotion ! 

Happy  people,  and  not  less  good  than  happy !  Your  bold 
and  barren  mountains  have  been  the  safeguard  of  your 
virtue  and  your  innocence.  Long  may  they  prove  so,  and 
long  may  the  waves  of  the  world's  ambition  be  stayed  at 
their  rocky  feet! 

I  was  beginning  to  forget  all  that  I  had  seen  of  life,  or,  if 
not  forget,  at  least  to  regard  it  as  a  wild  and  troubled  dream, 
when  an  accident  —  one  of  those  things  we  always  regard  as 
the  merest  chances  —  once  more  opened  the  flood-gates  of 
memory,  and  sent  the  whole  past  in  a  strong  current  through 
my  brain. 

In  this  mountain  region  the  transition  from  winter  to  sum- 
mer is  effected  in  a  few  days.  Some  hours  of  a  scorching 
sun  and  south  wind  swell  the  torrents  with  melted  snow ;  the 
icebergs  fall  thundering  from  cliff  and  crag,  and  the  sporting 
waterfall  once  more  dashes  over  the  precipice.  The  trees 
burst  into  leaf,  and  the  grass  springs  up  green  and  fresh 
from  its  wintry  covering ;  and  from  the  dreary  aspect  of 
snow-capped  hills  and  leaden  clouds.  Nature  changes  to 
fertile  plains  and  hills,  and  a  sky  of  almost  unbroken  blue. 

It  was  of  a  glorious  evening  in  April,  when  all  these 
changes  were  passing,  that  I  was  descending  the  mountain 


"THE  VILLAGE   OF   SCHWARTZ-ACH."  487 

above  our  village  after  a  hard  day's  chamois  hunting.  Anx- 
ious to  reach  the  plain  before  nightfall,  I  could  not,  how- 
ever, help  stopping  from  time  to  time  to  watch  the  golden 
and  ruby  tints  of  the  sun  upon  the  snow,  or  see  the  turquoise 
blue  which  occasionally  marked  the  course  of  a  rivulet 
through  the  glaciers.  The  Alp-horn  was  sounding  from 
every  cliff  and  height,  and  the  lowing  of  the  cattle  swelled 
into  a  rich  and  mellow  chorus.  It  was  a  beautiful  picture, 
realizing  in  ever}^  tint  and  hue,  in  every  sound  and  cadence, 
all  that  one  can  fancy  of  romantic  simplicity  ;  and  I  sun^ej^ed 
it  with  a  swelling  and  a  grateful  heart. 

As  I  turned  to  resume  my  way,  I  was  struck  by  the  sound 
of  voices  speaking,  as  I  fancied,  in  French ;  and  before  I 
could  settle  the  doubt  with  myself,  I  saw  in  front  of  me  a 
party  of  some  six  or  seven  soldiers,  who,  with  their  muskets 
slung  behind  them,  were  descending  the  steep  path  by  the 
aid  of  sticks. 

Weary-looking  and  foot-sore  as  they  were,  their  dress, 
their  bearing,  and  their  soldierlike  air  struck  me  forcibly, 
and  sent  into  my  heart  a  thrill  I  had  not  known  for  many  a 
day  before.  I  came  up  quickly  behind  them,  and  could 
overhear  their  complaints  at  having  mistaken  the  road,  and 
their  maledictions,  uttered  in  no  gentle  spirit,  on  the  stupid 
mountaineers  who  could  not  understand  French. 

"  Here  comes  another  fellow,  let  us  try  him,"  said  one,  as 
he  turned  and  saw  me  near.  "  Schwartz- Ach,  Schwartz- 
Ach,"  added  he,  addressing  me,  and  reading  the  name  from 
a  slip  of  paper  in  his  hand. 

"  I  am  going  to  the  village,"  said  I  in  French,  "  and  will 
show  the  way  with  pleasure." 

"How!  what!  are  you  a  Frenchman,  then?"  cried  the 
corporal,  in  amazement. 

"  Even  so,"  said  I. 

"Then  by  what  chance  are  you  living  in  this  wild  spot? 
How,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  can  you  exist  here  ?  " 

"With  venison  like  this,"  said  I,  pointing  to  a  chamois 
buck  on  my  shoulder,  "  and  the  red  wine  of  the  Lech  Thai, 
a  man  may  manage  to  forget  Veray's  and  the  Dragon  Vert, 
particularly  as  they  are  not  associated  with  a  bill  and  a 
waiter." 


488  JVIAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"And  perhaps  you  are  a  Royalist,"  cried  another,  "  and 
don't  like  how  matters  are  going  on  at  home  ?  *' 

"  I  have  not  that  excuse  for  my  exile,"  said  I,  coldly. 

"  Have  you  served  then?  " 

I  nodded. 

"Ah,  I  see,"  said  the  corporal,  "you  grew  weary  of 
parade  and  guard  mounting." 

"If  you  mean  that  I  deserted,"  said  I,  "you  are  wrong 
there  also  ;  and  now  let  it  be  my  turn  to  ask  a  few  questions. 
What  is  France  about?  Is  the  Republic  still  as  great  and 
victorious  as  ever?" 

"  Sacre  bleu,  man,  what  are  you  thinking  of?  We  are  an 
Empire  some  years  back,  and  Napoleon  has  made  as  many 
kings  as  he  has  got  brothers  and  cousins  to  crown." 

"  And  the  army,  where  is  it?  " 

"  Ask  for  some  half-dozen  armies,  and  you  '11  still  be  short 
of  the  mark.  We  have  one  in  Hamburg,  and  another  in  the 
far  North,  holding  the  Russians  in  check  ;  we  have  garrisons 
in  every  fortress  of  Prussia  and  the  Rhine-land ;  we  have 
some  eighty  thousand  fellows  in  Poland  and  Galicia,  double 
as  many  more  in  Spain ;  Italy  is  our  own,  and  so  will  be 
Austria  ere  many  days  go  over." 

Boastfully  as  all  this  was  spoken,  I  found  it  to  be  not  far 
from  truth,  and  learned,  as  we  walked  along,  that  the 
Emperor  was  at  that  very  moment  on  the  march  to  meet 
the  Archduke  Charles,  who  with  a  numerous  army  was 
advancing  on  Ratisbon,  the  little  party  of  soldiers  being 
portion  of  a  force  despatched  to  explore  the  passes  of  the 
Vorarlberg,  and  report  on  how  far  they  might  be  prac- 
ticable for  the  transmission  of  troops  to  act  on  the  left  flank 
and  rear  of  the  Austrian  army.  Their  success  had  up  to 
this  time  been  very  slight,  and  the  corporal  was  making  for 
Schwartz -Ach,  as  a  spot  where  he  hoped  to  rendezvous  with 
some  of  his  comrades.  They  were  much  disappointed  on 
my  telling  them  that  I  had  quitted  the  village  that  morning, 
and  that  not  a  soldier  had  been  seen  there.  There  was, 
however,  no  other  spot  to  pass  the  night  in,  and  they  will- 
ingly accepted  the  offer  I  made  them  of  a  shelter  and  a 
supper  in  our  cottage. 


CHAPTER   XLVIII. 

"a  village  syndicus." 

I  SAT  up  all  night  listening-  to  the  soldiers'  stories  of  war  and 
campaigning.  Some  had  sel•^'ed  with  Soult's  army  in  the 
Asturias  ;  some  made  part  of  Davoust's  corps  in  the  north  of 
Europe ;  one  had  just  returned  from  Friedland,  and  amused 
us  with  describing  the  celebrated  conference  at  Tilsit,  where 
he  had  been  a  sentinel  on  the  river  side,  and  presented  arms 
to  the  two  emperors  as  they  passed.  It  will  seem  strange, 
but  it  is  a  fact  that  this  slight  incident  attracted  towards  him 
a  greater  share  of  his  comrades'  admiration  than  was  accorded 
to  those  who  had  seen  half  the  battle-fields  of  modern  war. 
He  described  the  dress,  the  aii-,  the  general  bearing  of  the 
emperors,  —  remarking  that  although  Alexander  was  taller 
and  handsomer,  and  even  more  soldier-like  than  our  own 
emperor,  there  was  a  something  of  calm  dignit}'  and  conscious 
majesty  in  Xapoleon  that  made  him  appear  immeasurably 
the  superior.  Alexander  wore  the  uniform  of  the  Russian 
guard,  one  of  the  most  splendid  it  is  possible  to  conceive. 
The  only  thing  simple  about  him  was  his  sword,  which  was  a 
plain  sabre  with  a  tarnished  gilt  scabbard  and  a  very  dirty 
sword-knot ;  and  yet  every  moment  he  used  to  look  down  at 
it  and  handle  it  with  great  apparent  admiration.  "  And  well 
might  he,"  added  the  soldier,  —  "  Napoleon  had  given  it  to 
him  but  the  day  before." 

To  listen  even  to  such  meagre  details  as  these  was  to  light 
up  again  in  my  heart  the  fire  that  was  only  smouldering, 
and  that  no  life  of  peasant  labor  or  obscurity  could  ever 
extinguish.  My  companions  quickl}-  saw  the  interest  I  took 
in  their  narratives,  and  certainly  did  their  utmost  to  feed 
the  passion,  —  now  with  some  sketch  of  a  Spanish  marauding 


490  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

party,  as  full  of  adventure  as  a  romance ;  now  with  a  de- 
scription of  northern  warfare,  where  artillery  thundered  on 
the  ice,  and  men  fought  behind  intrenchments  of  deep 
snow. 

From  the  North  Sea  to  the  Adriatic,  all  Europe  was  now 
in  arms.  Great  armies  were  marching  in  ever}^  direction,  — 
some  along  the  deep  valley  of  the  Danube,  others  from  the 
rich  plains  of  Poland  and  Silesia ;  some  were  passing  the 
Alps  into  Italy,  and  some  again  were  poui'ing  down  for 
the  Tyrol  Jochs,  to  defend  the  rocky  passes  of  their  native 
land  against  the  invader.  Patriotism  and  glory,  the  spirit  of 
chivalry  and  conquest,  all  were  abroad,  and  his  must  indeed 
have  been  a  cold  heart  which  could  find  within  it  no  response 
to  the  stirring  sounds  around.  To  the  intense  feeling  of 
shame  which  I  at  first  felt  at  my  own  life  of  obscure  inactiv- 
ity, there  now  succeeded  a  feverish  desii*e  to  be  somewhere 
and  do  something  to  dispel  this  worse  than  letharg3^  I  had 
not  resolution  to  tell  my  comrades  that  I  had  served ;  I  felt 
reluctant  to  speak  of  a  career  so  abortive  and  unsuccessful ; 
and  yet  I  blushed  at  the  half-pitying  expressions  they  be- 
stowed upon  my  life  of  inglorious  adventure. 

"  You  risk  life  and  limb  here  in  these  pine-forests,  and 
hazard  existence  for  a  bear  or  a  chamois  goat,"  cried  one ; 
"  and  half  the  peril  in  real  war  would  perhaps  make  you  a 
chef  cVescadron  or  even  a  general." 

"  Ay,"  said  another,  "we  serve  in  an  army  where  crowns 
are  military  distinctions,  and  the  epaulette  is  only  the  first 
step  to  a  kingdom." 

"True,"  broke  in  a  third,  "Napoleon  has  changed  the 
whole  world,  and  made  soldiering  the  only  trade  worth 
following.  Massena  was  a  drummer-boy  within  my  own 
memory,  and  see  him  now!  Ney  was  not  born  to  great 
wealth  and  honors.  Junot  never  could  learn  his  trade  as 
a  cobbler,  and  for  want  of  better  has  become  a  general  of 
division." 

"Yes;  and,"  said  I,  following  out  the  theme,  "under 
that  wooden  roof  yonder,  through  that  little  diamond-paned 
window  the  vine  is  trained  across,  a  greater  than  any  of  the 
last  three  first  saw  the  light.  It  was  there  Kleber,  the  con- 
queror of  Egypt,  was  born." 


"A  VILLAGE  SYNDICUS."  491 

"  Honor  to  the  brave  dead !  "  said  the  soldiers  from  their 
places  around  the  fire,  and  carrying  their  hands  to  the 
salute. 

"  ^Ye  '11  fire  a  salvo  to  him  to-morrow  before  we  set  out !  " 
said  the  corporal.  "  And  so  Kleber  was  born  there  !  "  said 
he,  resuming  his  place,  and  staring  with  admiring  interest  at 
the  dark  outline  of  the  old  house,  as  it  stood  out  against  the 
starry  and  cloudless  sky. 

It  was  somewhat  of  a  delicate  task  for  me  to  prevent  my 
companions  offering  their  tribute  of  respect,  but  which  the 
old  peasant  would  have  received  with  little  gratitude,  seeing 
that  he  had  never  yet  forgiven  the  country  nor  the  service 
for  the  loss  of  his  son.  AVith  some  management  I  accom- 
plished this  duty,  however,  promising  my  services  at  the 
same  time  to  be  their  guide  through  the  Bregenzer-wald, 
and  not  to  part  with  them  till  I  had  seen  them  safely  into 
Bavaria. 

Had  it  not  been  for  my  thorough  acquaintance  with  the 
Tyroler  dialect  and  all  the  usages  of  Tyrol  life,  their  march 
would  have  been  one  of  great  peril;  for  already  the  old 
hatred  against  their  Bavarian  oppressors  was  beginning  to 
stir  the  land,  and  Austrian  agents  were  traversing  the  moun- 
tain districts  in  every  direction  to  call  forth  that  patriotic 
ardor  which,  ill-requited  as  it  has  been,  has  more  than  once 
come  to  the  rescue  of  Austria. 

So  sudden  had  been  the  outbreak  of  this  war,  and  so  little 
aware  were  the  peasantry  of  the  frontier  of  either  its  object 
or  aim,  that  we  frequently  passed  recruits  for  both  armies  on 
their  way  to  headquarters  on  the  same  day,  —  honest  Bava- 
rians, who  were  trudging  along  the  road  with  pack  on  their 
shoulders,  and  not  knowing,  nor  indeed  much  caring,  on 
which  side  they  were  to  combat.  My  French  comrades 
scorned  to  report  themselves  to  any  German  otrieer,  and 
pushed  on  vigorously  in  the  hope  of  meeting  with  a  French 
regiment.  I  had  now  conducted  my  little  party  to  Im- 
menstadt,  at  the  foot  of  the  Bavarian  Alps;  and,  having 
completed  my  compact,  was  about  to  bid  them  good-by. 

"We  were  seated  around  our  bivouac  fire  for  the  last  time, 
as  we  deemed  it,  and  pledging  each  other  in  a  parting  glass, 


492  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

when  suddenly  our  attention  was  attracted  to  a  bright  red 
tongue  of  flame  that  suddenly  darted  up  from  one  of  the 
Alpine  summits  above  our  head.  Another  and  another 
followed,  till  at  length  every  mountain  peak  for  miles  and 
miles  away  displayed  a  great  signal  fire !  Little  knew  we 
that  behind  that  giant  range  of  mountains,  from  the  icy  crags 
of  the  Glockner  and  from  the  snowy  summit  of  the  Ortelsr 
itself,  similar  fires  were  summoning  all  Tyrol  to  the  combat ; 
while  every  valley  resounded  w4th  the  war-cry  of  "  God  and 
the  Emperor !  "  We  were  still  in  busy  conjecture  what  all 
this  might  portend,  when  a  small  party  of  mounted  men  rode 
past  us  at  a  trot.  They  carried  carbines  slung  over  their 
peasant  frocks,  and  showed  unmistakably  enough  that  they 
were  some  newly-raised  and  scarcely-disciplined  force.  After 
proceeding  about  a  hundred  yards  beyond  us,  they  halted, 
and  drew  up  across  the  road,  unslinging  theu*  pieces  as  if  to 
prepare  for  action. 

"  Look  at  those  fellows,  yonder,"  said  the  old  corporal,  as 
he  puffed  his  pipe  calmly  and  deliberately  ;  ' '  they  mean  mis- 
chief, or  I  'm  much  mistaken.  Speak  to  them,  Tierna}^ ;  you 
know  their  jargon." 

I  accordingly  arose  and  advanced  towards  them,  touching 
my  hat  in  salute  as  I  went  forward.  They  did  not  give  me 
much  time,  however,  to  open  negotiations,  for  scarcely  had  I 
uttered  a  word  when  bang  went  a  shot  close  beside  me ; 
another  followed,  and  then  a  whole  volley  was  discharged, 
but  with  such  haste  and  ill  direction  that  not  a  ball  struck 
me.  Before  I  could  take  advantage  of  this  piece  of  good 
fortune  to  renew  my  advances,  a  bullet  whizzed  by  my  head, 
and  down  went  the  left-hand  horse  of  the  file,  —  at  first  on 
his  knees,  and  then,  with  a  wild  plunge  into  the  air,  he  threw 
himself  stone  dead  on  the  road,  the  rider  beneath  him.  As 
for  the  rest,  throwing  off  carbines  and  cartouche-boxes,  they 
sprung  from  their  horses,  and  took  to  the  mountains  with  a 
speed  that  showed  how  far  more  they  were  at  home  amidst 
rocks  and  heather  than  when  seated  on  the  saddle.  My 
comrades  lost  no  time  in  coming  up ;  but  while  three  of  them 
kept  the  fugitives  in  sight,  covering  them  all  the  time  with 
their  muskets,  the  others  secured  the  cattle,  as  in  amazement 
and  terror  they  stood  around  the  dead  horse. 


"A  VILLAGE    SYNDICUS."  493 

Although  the  peasant  had  received  no  other  injuries  than 
a  heavy  fall  and  his  own  fears  inflicted,  he  was  overcome 
with  terror,  and  so  certain  of  death  that  he  would  do  nothing 
but  mumble  his  prayers,  totally  deaf  to  all  the  efforts  I  made 
to  restore  his  courage. 

"  That  comes  of  putting  a  man  out  of  his  natural  bent," 
said  the  old  corporal.  ''On  his  native  mountains,  and  with 
his  rifle,  that  fellow  would  be  brave  enough ;  but  making  a 
dragoon  of  him  is  like  turning  a  Cossack  into  a  foot  soldier. 
One  thing  is  clear  enough,  —  we  've  no  time  to  throw  away 
here ;  these  peasants  will  soon  alarm  the  village  in  our  rear, 
so  that  we  had  better  mount  and  press  forward." 

'^  But  in  what  direction?  "  cried  another;  "  who  knows  if 
we  shall  not  be  rushing  into  worse  danger?  " 

"  Tiernay  must  look  to  that,"  interposed  a  third.  "It's 
clear  he  can't  leave  us  now ;  his  retreat  is  cut  off,  at  all 
events." 

"That's  the  very  point  I  was  thinking  of,  lads,"  said  I. 
"  The  beacon  fires  show  that  the  '  Tyrol  is  up,'  and  safely  as 
I  have  joui-neyed  hither  I  know  well  I  dare  not  venture  to 
retrace  my  road ;  I  'd  be  shot  in  the  first  Dorf  I  entered. 
On  one  condition,  then,  I  '11  jom  you ;  and  short  of  that, 
however,  I'll  take  my  own  path,  come  what  may  of  it." 

"What's  the  condition,  then?"  cried  three  or  four 
together. 

"  That  you  give  me  the  full  and  absolute  command  of  this 
party,  and  pledge  your  honor,  as  French  soldiers,  to  obey 
me  in  everything,  till  the  day  we  arrive  at  the  headquarters 
of  a  French  corps." 

"  What,  obey  a  Pekin  !  take  the  mot  d'ordre  from  a  civilian 
that  never  handled  a  firelock !  "  shouted  three  or  four,  in 
derision. 

"  I  have  serv'ed,  and  with  distinction,  too,  my  lads,"  said 
I,  calmly  ;  "  and  if  I  have  not  handled  a  firelock,  it  is  because 
I  wielded  a  sabre  as  an  officer  of  Hussars.  It  is  not  here  nor 
now  that  I  am  going  to  tell  why  I  wear  the  epaulette  no 
longer.  I'll  render  account  of  that  to  my  superiors  and 
yours.  If  you  reject  my  offer  (and  I  don't  press  you  to  ac- 
cept it) ,  let  us  at  least  part  good  friends.  As  for  me,  I  can 
take   care   of   myself."     As   I   said   this,  I  slung  over  my 


I 
494  MAUKICE   TIERNAY. 

shoulder  the  cross-belt  and  carbine  of  one  of  the  fugitives, 
and  selecting  a  strongly  built,  short-legged  black  horse  as 
my  mount,  I  adjusted  the  saddle,  and  sprung  on  his  back. 

"That  was  done  like  an  old  hussar,  anyhow,"  said  a 
soldier,  who  had  been  a  cavalry  man,  "  and  I'll  follow  you, 
whatever  the  rest  may  do."  He  mounted  as  he  spoke,  and 
saluted  as  if  on  duty. 

Slight  as  the  incident  was,  its  effect  was  magical.  Old 
habits  of  discipline  revived  at  the  first  signal  of  obedience, 
and  the  corporal  having  made  his  men  fall  in,  came  up  to  my 
side  for  orders. 

"Select  the  best  of  these  horses,"  said  I,  "and  let  us 
press  forward  at  once.  We  are  about  eighteen  miles  from 
the  village  of  Wangheim ;  by  halting  a  short  distance  outside 
of  it,  I  can  enter  alone,  and  learn  something  about  the  state 
of  the  country  and  the  nearest  French  post.  The  cattle  are 
all  fresh,  and  we  can  easily  reach  the  village  before  day- 
break." 

Three  of  my  little  "  command"  were  tolerable  horsemen, 
two  of  them  having  served  in  the  artillery  train,  and  the 
thu'd  being  the  dragoon  I  have  alluded  to.  I  accordingly 
thi-ew  out  a  couple  of  these  as  an  advanced  picket,  keeping 
the  last  as  my  aide-de-camp  at  my  side.  The  remainder 
formed  the  rear,  —  with  orders,  if  attacked,  to  dismount  at 
once,  and  fire  over  the  saddle,  leaving  myself  and  the  others 
to  manoeuvre  as  cavalry.  This  was  the  only  way  to  give 
confidence  to  those  soldiers  who  in  the  ranks  would  have 
marched  up  to  a  battery,  but  on  horseback  were  totally  de- 
void of  self-reliance.  Meanwhile  I  imparted  such  instruc- 
tions in  equitation  as  I  could,  my  own  old  experience  as  a 
riding-master  well  enabling  me  to  select  the  most  necessary 
and  least  difficult  of  a  horseman's  duties.  Except  the  old 
corporal,  all  were  very  creditable  pupils ;  but  he,  possibly 
deeming  it  a  point  of  honor  not  to  discredit  his  old  career, 
rejected  everything  like  teaching,  and  openly  protested  that, 
save  to  run  away  from  a  victorious  enemy  or  follow  a  beaten 
one,  he  saw  no  use  in  cavalry. 

Nothing  could  be  in  better  temper,  however,  nor  more 
amicable  than  our  discourses  on  this  head  ;  and  as  I  let  drop, 
from  time  to  time,  little  hints  of  my  services  on  the  Rhine 


"A  VILLAGE   SYNDICUS."  495 

and  in  Italy,  I  gradually  perceived  that  I  grew  higher  in  the 
esteem  of  my  companions,  so  that  ere  we  rode  a  dozen  miles 
together  their  confidence  in  me  became  complete. 

In  return  for  all  their  anecdotes  of  "  blood  and  field,"  I 
told  them  several  stories  of  my  own  life,  and  at  least  con- 
vinced them  that  if  they  had  not  chanced  upon  the  very 
luckiest  of  mankind,  they  had  at  least  fallen  upon  one  who 
had  seen  enough  of  casualties  not  to  be  easily  baffled,  and 
who  felt  in  every  ditflculty  a  self-confidence  that  no  amount 
of  discomfiture  could  ever  entirely  obliterate.  No  soldier  can 
vie  with  a  Frenchman  in  tempering  respect  with  familiarity ; 
so  that  while  preserving  towards  me  all  the  freedom  of  the 
comrade,  they  recognized  in  every  detail  of  duty  the  neces- 
sity of  prompt  obedience,  and  followed  every  command  I 
gave  with  implicit  submission. 

It  was  thus  we  rode  along,  till  in  the  distance  I  saw  the 
spire  of  a  village  church,  and  recognized  what  I  knew  to  be 
Dorf  "Wangheim.  It  was  yet  an  hour  before  sunrise,  and  all 
was  tranquil  around.  I  gave  the  word  to  trot,  and  after 
about  forty  minutes'  sharp  riding  we  gained  a  small  pine- 
wood  which  skirted  the  village.  Here  I  dismounted  my 
party,  and  prepared  to  make  my  entree  alone  into  the  Dorf, 
carefully  arranging  my  costume  for  that  purpose,  sticking  a 
large  bouquet  of  wild-flowers  in  my  hat,  and  assuming  as 
much  as  I  could  of  the  Tyrol  look  and  lounge  in  my  gait.  I 
shortened  my  stirrups,  also,  to  a  most  awkward  and  incon- 
venient length,  and  gripped  my  reins  into  a  heap  in  my  hand. 

It  was  thus  I  rode  into  Wangheim,  saluting  the  people  as 
I  passed  up  the  street,  and  with  the  short  dry  greeting  of 
"Tag,"  and  a  nod  as  brief,  playing  Tyroler  to  the  top  of 
my  bent.  The  Syndicus,  or  the  ruler  of  the  viUage,  lived  in 
a  good-sized  house  in  the  Platz,  which,  being  market-day, 
was  crowded  with  people,  although  the  articles  for  sale 
appeared  to  include  little  variety,  —  almost  every  one  leading 
a  calf  by  a  straw  rope,  the  rest  of  the  population  contenting 
themselves  with  a  wild  turkey,  or  sometimes  two,  which, 
held  under  the  arms,  added  the  most  singular  element  to  the 
general  concert  of  human  voices  around.  Little  stalls  for 
rustic  jewellery  and  artificial  flowers,  the  latter  in  great 
request,  ran  along  the  sides  of  the  square,  with  here  and 


496  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

there  a  booth  where  skins  and  furs  were  displayed,  more, 
however,  as  it  appeared,  to  give  pleasure  to  a  group  of  sturdy 
jagers,  who  stood  around  recognizing  the  track  of  their  own 
bullets,  than  from  any  hope  of  sale.  In  fact,  the  business 
of  the  day  was  dull,  and  an  experienced  eye  would  have 
seen  at  a  glance  that  turkeys  were  "heavy,"  and  calves 
"looking  down."  No  wonder  that  it  should  be  so, — the 
interest  of  the  scene  being  concentrated  on  a  little  knot  of 
some  twenty  youths,  who,  with  tickets  containing  a  number 
in  their  hats,  stood  before  the  Syndic's  door.  They  were 
fine-looking,  stalwart,  straight  fellows,  and  became  admir- 
ably the  manly  costume  of  their  native  mountains  ;  but  their 
countenances  were  not  without  an  expression  of  sadness,  the 
reflection,  as  I  soon  saw,  of  the  sadder  faces  around  them. 
For  so  they  stood,  mothers,  sisters,  and  sweethearts,  their 
tearful  eyes  turned  on  the  little  band. 

It  puzzled  me  not  a  little  at  first  to  see  these  evidences  of 
a  conscription  in  a  land  where  hitherto  the  population  had 
answered  the  call  to  arms  by  a  levy  en  masse,  while  the  air 
of  depression  and  sadness  seemed  also  strange  in  tl^ose  who 
gloried  in  the  excitement  of  war.  The  first  few  sentences  I 
overheard  revealed  the  mystery.  Wangheim  was  Bavarian  ; 
although  strictly  a  Tyrol  village,  and  Austrian  Tyrol  too,  it 
had  been  included  within  the  Bavarian  frontier,  and  the 
orders  had  arrived  from  Munich  at  the  Syndicate  to  furnish 
a  certain  number  of  men  by  a  certain  day.  This  was  terrible 
tidings ;  for  although  they  did  not  as  yet  know  that  the  war 
was  against  Austria,  they  had  heard  that  the  troops  were 
for  foreign  service,  and  not  for  the  defence  of  home  and 
countrj^,  the  only  cause  which  a  Tyroler  deems  worthy  of 
battle.  As  I  listened,  I  gathered  that  the  most  complete 
ignorance  prevailed  as  to  the  service  or  the  destination  to 
which  they  were  intended.  The  Bavarians  had  merely  issued 
their  mandates  to  the  various  villages  of  the  border,  and 
neither  sent  emissaries  nor  officers  to  carry  them  out.  Hav- 
ing seen  how  the  "  land  lay,"  I  pushed  my  way  through  the 
crowd  into  the  hall  of  the  Syndicate,  and  by  dint  of  a  strong 
will  and  stout  shoulder  at  length  gained  the  audience 
chamber,  where,  seated  behind  an  elevated  bench,  the  great 
man  was  dispensing   justice.     I   advanced   boldly  and   de- 


"A  VILLAGE  SYNDICUS."  497 

manded  an  immediate  audience  in  piivate,  stating  tliat  my 
business  was  most  pressing  and  not  admitting  of  delay.  The 
Syndic  consulted  for  a  second  or  two  with  his  clerk,  and 
retired,  beckoning  me  to  follow. 

"You're  not  a  Tyroler,"  said  he  to  me,  the  moment  we 
were  alone. 

"  That  is  easy  to  see,  Herr  Syndicus,"  replied  I.  "I'm 
an  officer  of  the  staff  in  disguise,  sent  to  make  a  hasty  in- 
spection of  the  frontier  villages  and  report  upon  the  state  of 
feeling  that  prevails  amongst  them,  and  how  they  stand 
affected  towards  the  cause  of  Bavaria." 

"And  what  have  you  found,  sii-?"  said  he,  with  native 
caution ;  for  a  Bavarian  T3'roler  has  the  quality'  in  a  per- 
fection that  neither  a  Scotchman  nor  a  Russian  can  pretend 
to. 

"That  you  are  all  Austrian  at  heart,"  said  I,  determined 
to  dash  at  him  with  a  frankness  that  I  knew  he  could  not 
resist.  "There's  not  a  Bavarian  amongst  you.  I  have 
made  the  whole  tour  of  the  Vorarlberg,  through  the  Bregen- 
zer-wald  down  the  valley  of  the  Lech,  by  Immenstadt,  and 
Wangheim  ;  and  it 's  all  the  same.  I  have  heard  nothing  but 
the  old  cry  of  '  Gott  und  der  Kaiser ! '  " 

"Indeed!"  said  he,  with  an  accent  beautifully  balanced 
between  sorrow  and  astonishment. 

"Even  the  men  in  authority,  the  Syndics  like  yourself, 
have  frankly  told  me  how  difficult  it  is  to  preserve  allegiance 
to  a  government  by  whom  they  have  been  so  harshly  treated. 
I  'm  sure  I  have  the  '  grain  question,'  as  they  call  it,  and  the 
'  Frei  wechsel'  with  South  Tyrol,  off  by  heart,"  said  I, 
laughing.  "However,  my  business  lies  in  another  quarter. 
I  have  seen  enough  to  show  me  that,  save  the  outcasts  from 
home  and  family,  that  class  so  rare  in  the  Tyrol,  that  men 
call  adventurers,  we  need  look  for  no  willing  recruits  here ; 
and  you  '11  stare  when  I  say  that  I  'm  glad  of  it,  heartily  glad 
of  it." 

The  Syndic  did  indeed  stare,  but  he  never  ventured  a 
word  in  reply. 

"I'll  tell  you  why,  then,  Herr  Syndicus.  "VYith  a  man 
like  yourself  one  can  afford  to  be  open-hearted.  AVangheim, 
Luttrich,  Kempenfeld,  and  all  the  other  villages  at  the  foot 

32 


498  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

of  these  mountains  were  never  other  than  Austrian.  Diplo- 
matists and  map-makers  colored  them  pale  blue,  but  they 
were  black  and  yellow  underneath ;  and  what 's  more  to  the 
purpose,  Austrian  they  must  become  again.  When  the  real 
object  of  this  war  is  known,  all  Tyrol  will  declare  for  the 
House  of  Hapsburg.  We  begin  to  perceive  this  ourselves, 
and  to  dread  the  misfortunes  and  calamities  that  must  fall 
upon  you  and  the  other  frontier  towns  by  this  divided  allegi- 
ance ;  for  when  you  have  sent  off  your  available  youth  to  the 
Bavarians,  down  will  come  Austria  to  revenge  itself  upon 
your  undefended  towns  and  villages." 

The  Syndic  apparently  had  thought  of  all  these  things 
exactly  with  the  same  conclusions,  for  he  shook  his  head 
gravely,  and  uttered  a  low,   faint  sigh. 

"  I'm  so  convinced  of  what  I  tell  you,"  said  I,  "  that  no 
sooner  have  I  conducted  to  headquarters  the  force  I  have 
under  my  command  —  " 

"You  have  a  force,  then,  actually  under  your  orders?" 
cried  he,  starting. 

"  The  advanced  guard  is  picketed  in  yonder  pine-wood,  if 
you  have  any  curiosity  to  inspect  them ;  you  '11  find  them  a 
little  disorderly,  perhaps,  like  all  newly-raised  levies,  but  I 
hope  not  discreditable  allies  for  the  great  army." 

The  Syndic  protested  his  sense  of  the  favor,  but  begged  to 
take  all  their  good  qualities  on  trust. 

I  then  went  on  to  assure  him  that  I  should  recommend  the 
Government  to  permit  the  range  of  frontier  towns  to  pre- 
serve a  complete  neutrality  ;  by  scarcely  any  possibility  could 
the  war  come  to  their  doors ;  and  that  there  was  neither 
sound  policy  nor  humanity  in  sending  them  to  seek  it  else- 
where. I  will  not  stop  to  recount  all  the  arguments  I  em- 
ployed to  enforce  my  opinions,  nor  how  learnedly  I  discussed 
every  question  of  European  politics.  The  Sjmdic  was 
amazed  at  the  vast  range  of  my  acquirements,  and  could  not 
help  confessing  it. 

My  interview  ended  by  persuading  him  not  to  send  on  his 
levies  of  men  till  he  had  received  further  instructions  from 
Munich  ;  to  supply  my  advanced  guards  with  the  rations  and 
allowances  intended  for  the  others  ;  and  lastly,  to  advance 
me  the  sum  of  one  hundred  and  seventy  crown  thalers,  on 


"A  VILLAGE  SYNDICUS."  499 

the  express  pledge  that  the  main  body  of  my  "  marauders," 
as  I  took  opportunity  to  style  them,  should  take  the  road  by 
Kempeu  and  Durcheim,  and  not  to  touch  on  the  village  of 
Waugheim  at  all. 

AVhen  discussing  the  last  point,  I  declared  to  the  Syndic 
that  he  was  depriving  himself  of  a  very  imposing  sight; 
that  the  men,  whatever  might  be  said  of  them  in  point  of 
character,  were  a  fine-looking,  daring  set  of  rascals,  neither 
respecting  laws  nor  fearing  punishment,  and  that  our  band, 
for  a  newly-formed  one,  was  by  no  means  contemptible.  He 
resisted  all  these  seducing  prospects,  and  counted  down  his 
dollars  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  felt  he  had  made  a  good 
bargain.  I  gave  him  a  receipt  in  all  form,  and  signed 
Maurice  Tiernay  at  the  foot  of  it  as  stoutly  as  though  I  had 
the  Grand  Livre  de  France  at  my  back. 

Let  not  the  reader  rashly  condemn  me  for  this  fault,  nor 
still  more  rashly  conclude  that  I  acted  with  a  heartless  and 
unprincipled  spirit  in  this  transaction.  I  own  that  a  species 
of  Jesuitry  suggested  the  scheme,  and  that  while  providing 
for  the  exigencies  of  my  own  comrades  I  satisfied  my  con- 
science by  rendering  a  good  service  in  return.  The  course  of 
war,  as  I  suspected  it  would,  did  sweep  past  this  portion  of 
the  Bavarian  Tyrol  without  inflicting  any  heavy  loss.  Such 
of  the  peasantry  as  joined  the  army  fought  under  Austrian 
banners,  and  Wangheim  and  the  other  border  villages  had 
not  to  pay  the  bloody  penalty  of  a  divided  allegiance.  I 
may  add,  too,  for  conscience'  sake,  that  while  travelling  this 
way  many  years  after,  I  stopped  a  day  at  Wangheim  to  point 
out  its  picturesque  scenery  to  a  fair  friend  who  accompanied 
me.  The  village  inn  was  kept  by  an  old,  venerable-looking 
man,  who  also  discharged  the  functions  of  Vorsteher,  —  the 
title  Syndicus  was  abolished.  He  was,  although  a  little  cold 
and  resented  at  first,  very  communicative  after  a  while,  and 
full  of  stories  of  the  old  campaigns  of  France  and  Austria,  — 
amongst  which  he  related  one  of  a  certain  set  of  French  free- 
booters that  once  passed  through  AVangheim,  the  Captain 
having  actually  breakfasted  with  himself,  and  persuaded  him 
to  advance  a  loan  of  nigh  two  hundred  thalers  on  the  faith 
of  the  Bavarian  Government. 

"  He  was  a  good-looking,  dashing  sort  of  fellow,"  said  he. 


500  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

"  that  could  sing  French  love-songs  to  the  piano,  and  jodle 
'  Tyroler  Lieder '  for  the  women.  My  daughter  took  a  great 
fancy  to  him,  and  wore  his  sword-knot  for  many  a  day  after, 
till  we  found  that  he  had  cheated  and  betrayed  us.  Even 
then,  however,  I  don't  think  she  gave  him  up,  though  she  did 
not  speak  of  him  as  before.  This  is  the  fellow's  writing," 
added  he,  producing  a  much- worn  and  much-crumpled  scrap 
of  paper  from  his  old  pocket-book,  "  and  there's  his  name. 
I  have  never  been  able  to  make  out  clearly  whether  it  was 
Thierray  or  Lierray." 

"  I  know  something  about  him,"  said  I,  ''and  with  your 
permission  will  keep  the  document  and  pay  the  debt.  Your 
daughter  is  alive  still  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  married,  too,  at  Bruck,  ten  miles  from  this." 

"  Well,  if  she  has  thrown  away  the  old  sword-knot,  tell 
her  to  accept  this  one  in  memory  of  the  French  Captain,  who 
was  not  at  least  an  ungrateful  rogue  ;  "  and  I  detached  from 
my  sabre  the  rich  gold  tassel  and  cord  which  I  wore  as  a 
general  officer. 

This  little  incident  I  may  be  pardoned  for  interpolating 
from  a  portion  of  my  life,  of  which  I  do  not  intend  to  speak 
further,  as  with  the  career  of  the  Soldier  of  Fortune  I  mean 
to  close  these  memoirs  of  Maurice  Tiernay. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 


•A  LUCKY    MEETING. 


The  reader  will  probably  not  complain  if,  passing  over  the 
manifold  adventures  and  hair-breadth  'scapes  of  my  little 
party,  I  come  to  our  arrival  at  Ingoldstadt,  where  the  head- 
quarters of  General  Vandamme  were  stationed.  It  was  just 
as  the  recall  was  beating  that  we  rode  into  the  town,  where, 
although  nearly  eight  thousand  men  were  assembled,  our 
somewhat  singular  cavalcade  attracted  no  small  share  of 
notice.  Fresh  rations  for  "man  and  beast"  slung  around 
our  very  ragged  clothing,  and  four  Austrian  grenadiers  tied 
by  a  cord,  wrist  to  wrist,  as  prisoners  behind  us,  we  pre- 
sented, it  must  be  owned,  a  far  more  picturesque  than 
soldier-like  party. 

Accepting  all  the  attentions  bestowed  upon  us  in  the  most 
flattering  sense,  and  affecting  not  to  perceive  the  ridicule  we 
were  exciting  on  every  hand,  I  rode  up  to  the  Etat  Major 
and  dismounted.  I  had  obtained  from  my  prisoners  what 
I  deemed  a  very  important  secret,  and  was  resolved  to  make 
the  most  of  it  by  asking  for  an  immediate  audience  of  the 
general. 

"I  am  the  Officier  d'Ordonnance,"  said  a  young  lieutenant 
of  dragoons,  stepping  forward;  "any  communications  you 
have  to  make  must  be  addressed  to  me." 

"  I  have  taken  four  prisoners.  Monsieur  le  Lieutenant," 
said  I,  "and  would  wish  to  inform  General  Vandamme  on 
certain  matters  they  have  revealed  to  me." 

"  Are  you  in  the  service?"  asked  he,  with  a  glance  at  my 
incongruous  equipment. 

"  I  have  sers'ed,  sir,"  was  my  reply. 

"  In  what  army  of  brigands  was  it,  then?"  said  he,  laugh- 
ing, "  for,  assuredly,  you  do  not  recall  to  my  recollection 
any  European  force  that  I  know  of." 


502  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

"  I  may  find  leisure  and  inclination  to  give  you  the  fullest 
information  on  this  point  at  another  moment,  sir;  for  the 
present,  my  business  is  more  pressing.  Can  I  see  General 
Vandamme  ?  " 

"Of  course  you  cannot,  my  worthy  fellow!  If  you  had 
served,  as  you  say  you  have,  you  could  scarcely  have  made 
so  absurd  a  request.  A  French  general  of  division  does  not 
give  audience  to  every  tatterdemalion  who  picks  up  a  prisoner 
on  the  high  road." 

"  It  is  exactly  because  I  have  sensed  that  I  do  make  the 
request,"  said  I,  stoutly. 

"  How  so,  pray?  "  asked  he,  staring  at  me. 

"Because  I  knew  well  how  often  young  staff-officers,  in 
their  self-sufficiency,  overlook  the  most  important  points,  and 
from  the  humble  character  of  their  informants  frequently 
despise  what  their  superiors,  had  they  known  it,  would  have 
largely  profited  by.  And  even  if  I  did  not  know  this  fact, 
I  have  the  memory  of  another  one  scarcely  less  striking, 
which  was  that  General  Massena  himself  admitted  me  to  an 
audience  when  my  appearance  was  not  a  whit  more  imposing 
than  at  present." 

' '  You  knew  General  Massena,  then  ?  Where  was  it,  may 
I  ask?" 

"  In  Genoa,  during  the  siege." 

"  And  what  regiment  have  you  served  in?  " 

"The  Ninth  Hussars." 

"  Quite  enough,  my  good  fellow.  The  Ninth  were  on  the 
Sambre  while  that  siege  was  going  on,"  said  he,  laughing 
sarcastically. 

' '  I  never  said  that  my  regiment  was  at  Genoa.  I  only 
asserted  that  I  was,"  was  my  calm  reply ;  for  I  was  anxious 
to  prolong  the  conversation,  seeing  that  directly  over  our 
heads,  on  a  balcony,  a  number  of  officers  had  just  come  out 
to  smoke  their  cigars  after  dinner,  amongst  whom  I  recog- 
nized two  or  three  in  the  uniform  of  generals. 

"And  now  for  your  name;  let  us  have  that,"  said  he, 
seating  himself,  as  if  for  a  lengthy  cross-examination. 

I  stole  a  quick  glance  overhead,  and  seeing  that  two  of 
the  officers  were  eagerly  listening  to  our  colloquy,  said 
aloud,  — 


"A   LUCKY   MEETING."  503 

*'  1 11  tell  you  no  more,  sir.  You  have  already  heard  quitu 
enough  to  kuow  what  my  business  is.  I  did  u't  come  here  to 
relate  my  life  and  adventures." 

"•  I  say,  Lestocque,"  cried  a  large,  burly  man  from  above, 
"  have  you  picked  up  Robinson  Crusoe,  there?  " 

^'  He's  far  more  like  the  man  Friday,  mon  General^"  said 
the  young  lieutenant,  laughing,  "  although  even  a  savage 
might  have  more  deference  for  his  superiors." 

"What  does  he  want,  then?"  asked  the  other. 

"  An  audience  of  yourself,  ynou  General,  —  nothing  less." 

"Have  you  told  him  how  I  am  accustomed  to  reward 
people  who  occupy  my  time  on  false  pretences,  Lestocque?" 
said  the  General,  with  a  grin.  "Does  he  know  that  the 
Salle  de  Police  first,  and  the  Prevot  afterwards,  comprise  my 
gratitude  ?  " 

"He  presumes  to  say,  sir,  that  he  knows  General  Mas- 
sena,"  said  the  lieutenant. 

^''Diable!  He  knows  me,  does  he  say  —  he  knows  me? 
Who  is  he  —  what  is  he?"  said  a  voice  I  well  remembered, 
and  at  the  same  instant  the  brown,  dark  visage  of  General 
Massena  peered  over  the  balcony. 

"  He  's  a  countryman  of  yours,  Massena,"  said  Vandamme, 
laughing.     "  £h,  are  you  not  a  Piedmontais?  " 

Up  to  this  moment  I  had  stood  silently  listening  to  the 
dialogue  around  me,  without  the  slightest  apparent  sign  of 
noticing  it.  Now,  however,  as  I  was  directly  addressed,  I 
drew  myself  up  to  a  soldier-like  attitude,  and  replied,  — 

"No,  sir.  I  am  more  a  Frenchman  than  General  Van- 
damme, at  least." 

"Send  that  fellow  here;  send  him  up,  Lestocque,  and 
have  a  corporal's  party  ready  for  duty,"  cried  the  general, 
as  he  threw  the  end  of  his  cigar  into  the  street,  and  walked 
hastily  away. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  in  my  life  that  my  tongue  had 
brought  peril  on  my  head  ;  but  I  ascended  the  stairs  with  a 
firm  step,  and  if  not  with  a  light,  at  least  with  a  resolute, 
heart,  seeing  how  wonderfully  little  I  had  to  lose,  and  that 
few  men  had  a  smaller  stake  in  existence  than  myself. 

The  voices  were  loud,  and  in  tones  of  anger,  as  I  stepped 
out  upon  the  terrace. 


504  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

"  So  we  are  acquaintances,  it  would  appear,  my  friend?" 
said  Massena,  as  he  stared  fixedly  at  me. 

"  If  General  Massena  cannot  recall  the  occasion  of  our 
meeting,"  said  I,  proudly,  "I'll  scarcely  remind  him  of 
it." 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Vandamme,  angrily,  "  I  must  deal 
with  this  gaillard  myself.     Are  you  a  French  soldier?" 

"  I  was,  sir;  an  officer  of  cavalry." 

"  And  were  you  broke,  did  you  desert,  or  what  was  it?" 
cried  he,  impatiently. 

"  I  kept  better  company  than  I  believe  is  considered  safe 
in  these  days,  and  was  accidentally  admitted  to  the  acquain- 
tance of  the  Prince  de  Conde  —  " 

"That's  it!"  said  Yandamme,  with  a  long  whistle; 
"that's  the  mischief,  then.     You  are  a  Yendean?" 

"No,  sir;  I  was  never  a  Royalist,  although,  as  I  have 
said,  exposed  to  the  very  society  whose  fascinations  might 
have  made  me  one." 

"  Your  name  is  Tiernay,  Monsieur,  or  I  mistake  much?  " 
said  a  smart-looking  young  man  in  civilian  dress. 

I  bowed  an  assent,  without  expressing  any  sentiment  of 
either  fear  or   anxiety. 

"I  can  vouch  for  the  perfect  accuracy  of  that  gentle- 
man's narrative,"  said  Monsieur  de  Bourrienne,  for  I 
now  saw  it  was  himself.  "You  may  possibly  remember 
a  \dsitor —  " 

"At  the  Temple,"  said  I,  interrupting  him.  "  I  recollect 
you  perfectly,  sir,  and  thank  you  for  this  recognition." 

Monsieur  de  Bourrienne,  however,  did  not  pay  much 
attention  to  my  gratitude,  but  proceeded,  in  a  few  hurried 
words,  to  give  some  account  of  me  to  the  bystanders. 

"  Well,  it  must  be  owned  that  he  looks  devilish  unlike  an 
officer  of  hussars,"  said  Massena,  as  he  laughed,  and  made 
others  laugh,   at  my  strange  equipment. 

"  And  yet  you  saw  me  in  a  worse  plight.  General,"  said  I, 
coolly. 

"  How  so  —  where  was  that?  "  cried  he. 

"It  will  be  a  sore  wound  to  my  pride,  General,"  said  I, 
slowly,  "  if  I  must  refresh  your  memory." 

"  You  were  not  at  Yalenciennes,"  said  he,  musing.    "  No, 


"A  LUCKY  MEETING."  505 

no ;  that  was  before  your  day.  Were  you  on  the  Meiise, 
then?  No.  Nor  in  Spain?  I  've  always  had  hussars  in  my 
division;  but  I  confess  I  do  not  remember  all  the  olllcers." 

"Will  Genoa  not  give  the  clew,  sir?"  said  I,  glancing  at 
him  a  keen  look. 

''  Least  of  all,"  cried  he.  "  The  cavalry  were  with  Soult. 
I  had  nothing  beyond  an  escort  in  the  town." 

''So  there's  no  help  for  it,"  said  I,  with  a  sigh.  "Do 
you  remember  a  half-drowned  wretch  that  was  laid  down  at 
your  feet  in  the  Annunziata  Church  one  morning  during  the 
siege?" 

"A  fellow  who  had  made  his  escape  from  the  English 
fleet,  and  swam  ashore  ?  What !  are  you  —  By  Jove  !  so  it 
is,  the  very  same.  Give  me  your  hand,  my  brave  fellow ! 
I  've  often  thought  of  you,  and  wondered  what  had  befallen 
you.  You  joined  that  unlucky  attack  on  Monte  Faccio ;  and 
we  had  warm  work  ourselves  on  hand  the  day  after.  I  say, 
Vandamme,  the  first  news  I  had  of  our  columns  crossing  the 
Alps  were  from  this  officer,  —  for  officer  he  was,  and  shall 
be  again,  if  I  live  to  command  a  French  division." 

Massena  embraced  me  affectionately,  as  he  said  this ;  and 
then  turning  to  the  others,  said,  — 

"  Gentlemen,  you  see  before  you  the  man  you  have  often 
heard  me  speak  of,  —  a  young  officer  of  hussars,  who  in  the 
hope  of  rescuing  a  division  of  the  French  army,  at  that  time 
shut  up  in  a  besieged  city,  performed  one  of  the  most  gallant 
exploits  on  record.  Within  a  week  after,  he  led  a  storming 
party  against  a  mountain  fortress ;  and  I  don't  care  if  he 
lived  in  the  intimacy  of  every  Bourbon  prince,  from  the 
Count  d'Artois  downwards,  he  's  a  good  Frenchman  and  a 
brave  soldier.  Bourrienne,  you  're  starting  for  headquarters? 
Well,  it  is  not  at  such  a  moment  as  this  you  can  bear  these 
matters  in  mind,  but  don't  forget  my  friend  Tiernay ;  de- 
pend upon  it  he  '11  do  you  no  discredit.  The  Emperor  knows 
well  both  how  to  employ  and  how  to  reward  such  men  as 
he  is." 

I  heard  these  flattering  speeches  like  one  in  a  delicious 
dream.  To  stand  in  the  midst  of  a  distinguislied  group 
while  Massena  thus  spoke  of  me  seemed  too  much  for 
reality,  for  praise  had  indeed  become  a  rare  accident  to  me ; 


506  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

but  from  such  a  quarter  it  was  less  eulogy  than  fame.  How 
hard  was  it  to  persuade  myself  that  I  was  awake,  as  I  found 
myself  seated  at  the  table  with  a  crowd  of  officers,  pledging 
the  toasts  they  gave,  and  drinking  bumpers  in  friendly 
recognition  with  all  around  me. 

Such  was  the  curiosity  to  hear  my  story  that  numbers  of 
others  crowded  into  the  room,  which  gradually  assumed  the 
appearance  of  a  theatre.  There  was  scarcely  an  incident  to 
which  I  referred  that  some  one  or  other  of  those  present 
could  not  vouch  for ;  and  whether  I  alluded  to  my  earlier 
adventures  in  the  Black  Forest,  or  the  expedition  of  Hum- 
bert, or  to  the  later  scenes  of  my  life,  I  met  corroboration 
from  one  quarter  or  another.  Away  as  I  w^as  from  Paris 
and  its  influences,  in  the  midst  of  my  comrades  I  never 
hesitated  to  relate  the  whole  of  my  acquaintance  with 
Fouche,  —  a  part  of  my  narrative  which,  I  must  own, 
amused  them  more  than  all  the  rest. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  intoxicating  praises,  and  of  a 
degree  of  wonder  that  might  have  turned  wiser  heads,  I 
never  forgot  that  I  was  in  possession  of  what  seemed  to  my- 
self at  least  a  very  important  military  fact,  —  no  less  than 
the  mistaken  movement  of  an  Austrian  general,  who  had 
marched  his  division  so  far  to  the  southward  as  to  leave  an 
interval  of  several  miles  between  himself  and  the  main  body 
of  the  imperial  forces.  This  fact  I  had  obtained  from  the 
grenadiers  I  had  made  prisoners,  and  who  were  stragglers 
from  the  corps  I  alluded  to.  The  movement  in  question 
was  doubtless  intended  to  menace  the  right  flank  of  our 
army ;  but  every  soldier  of  Napoleon  well  knew  that  so  long 
as  he  could  pierce  the  enemy's  centre  such  flank  attacks  were 
ineffectual,  the  question  being  ali'eady  decided  before  they 
could  be  undertaken. 

My  intelligence,  important  as  it  appeared  to  myself,  struck 
the  two  generals  as  of  even  greater  moment;  and  Massena, 
who  had  arrived  only  a  few  hours  before  from  his  own  divi- 
sion to  confer  with  Vandamme,  resolved  to  take  me  with  him 
at  once  to  headquarters. 

"You  are  quite  certain  of  what  you  assert,  Tiernay?" 
said  he  ;  "  doubtful  information,  or  a  mere  surmise,  will  not 
do  with  him  before  whom  you  will  be  summoned.    You  must 


"A   LUCKY  MEETING."  507 

be  clear  on  every  point,  and  brief, — remember  that;  not  a 
word  more  than  is  absohitely  necessary." 

I  repeated  that  I  had  taken  the  utmost  precautions  to 
assure  myself  of  the  truth  of  the  men's  statement,  and  had 
ridden  several  leagues  between  the  Austrian  left  and  the  left 
centre.  The  prisoners  themselves  could  prove  that  they  had 
marched  from  early  morning  till  late  in  the  afternoon  with- 
out coming  up  with  a  single  Austrian  post. 

The  next  question  was  to  equip  me  with  a  uniform ;  but 
what  should  it  be?  I  was  not  attached  to  any  corps,  nor 
had  I  an}^  real  rank  in  the  arm3^  Massena  hesitated  about 
appointing  me  on  his  own  staff  without  authority,  nor  could 
he  advise  me  to  assume  the  dress  of  my  old  regiment.  Time 
was  pressing,  and  it  was  decided  —  I  own  to  my  great  dis- 
comfiture —  that  I  should  continue  to  wear  my  Tyroler 
costume  till  my  restoration  to  my  former  rank  was  fully 
established. 

I  was  well  tired,  having  already  ridden  thirteen  leagues 
of  a  bad  road,  when  I  was  obliged  to  mount  once  more  and 
accompany  General  Massena  in  his  return  to  headquarters. 
A  good  supper  and  some  excellent  Bordeaux,  and,  better 
than  either,  a  light  heart,  gave  me  abundant  energy ;  and 
after  the  first  three  or  four  miles  of  the  way,  I  felt  as  if  I 
was  equal  to  any  fatigue. 

As  we  rode  along,  the  general  repeated  all  his  cautions  to 
me  in  the  event  of  my  being  summoned  to  give  information 
at  headquarters,  —  the  importance  of  all  my  replies  being 
short,  accurate,  and  to  the  purpose ;  and,  above  all,  the 
avoidance  of  anything  like  an  opinion  or  expression  of  my 
own  judgment  on  passing  events.  I  promised  faithfully  to 
obsel'^'e  all  his  counsels,  and  not  bring  discredit  on  bis 
patronage. 


CHAPTER   L. 

THE    MARCH    OX   VIENNA. 

All  General  Massena's  wise  counsels  and  my  own  steady 
resolves  to  profit  by  them  were  so  far  thrown  away,  that,  on 
our  arrival  at  Abensberg,  we  found  that  the  Emperor  had  left 
it  four  hours  before  and  pushed  on  to  Ebersfield,  a  village 
about  five  leagues  to  the  eastward.  A  despatch,  however, 
awaited  Massena,  telling  him  to  push  forward  with  Oudinot's 
corps  to  Newstadt,  and  with  his  own  division,  which  com- 
prised the  w^hole  French  right,  to  manoeuvre  so  as  to  menace 
the  Archduke's  base  upon  the  Iser. 

Let  my  reader  not  fear  that  I  am  about  to  inflict  on  him  a 
story  of  the  great  campaign  itself,  nor  oompel  him  to  seek 
refuge  in  a  map  from  the  terrible  array  of  hard  names  of 
towns  and  villages  for  which  that  district  is  famous.  It  is 
enough  for  my  purpose  that  I  recall  to  his  memory  the  strik- 
ing fact  that  when  the  French  sought  victory  by  turning  and 
defeating  the  Austrian  left,  the  Austrians  were  exactly  in 
march  to  execute  a  similar  movement  on  the  French  left  wing. 
Napoleon,  however,  gave  the  first  "  check,"  and  "  mated  "  his 
adversary  ere  he  could  open  his  game.  By  the  almost  light- 
ning speed  of  his  manoeuvres,  he  moved  foi-^N^ard  from  Rat- 
isbon  with  the  great  bulk  of  his  army ;  and  at  the  very  time 
that  the  Archduke  believed  him  to  be  awaiting  battle  around 
that  city,  he  was  far  on  his  march  to  Landshut. 

General  Massena  was  taking  a  hurried  cup  of  coffee,  and 
dictating  a  few  lines  to  his  secretary,  when  a  dragoon  officer 
galloped  into  the  town  with  a  second  despatch,  which,  what- 
ever its  contents,  must  needs  have  been  momentous ;  for  in 
a  few  minutes  the  drums  were  beating  and  trumpets  sound- 
ing, and  all  the  stirring  signs  of  an  immediate  movement 
visible.     It  was  yet  an  hour  before  daybreak,  and  dark  as 


THE  MARCH   ON  VIENNA.  509 

midnight ;  torches,  however,  blazed  everywhere,  and  b\' 
theii-  flaring  light  the  artillery  trains  and  wagons  drove 
thi'ough  the  narrow  street  of  the  village,  shaking  the  frail 
old  houses  with  their  rude  trot.  Even  in  a  retreating  army, 
I  have  scarcel}^  witnessed  such  a  spectacle  of  uproar,  con- 
fusion, and  chaos ;  but  still,  in  less  than  an  hour  the  troops 
had  all  defiled  from  the  town,  the  advanced  guard  was 
akeady  some  miles  on  its  way,  and  except  a  small  escort 
of  lancers  before  the  little  inn  where  the  general  still  re- 
mained, there  was  not  a  soldier  to  be  seen. 

It  may  seem  absurd  to  say  it,  but  I  must  confess  that 
my  eagerness  to  know  what  was  "  going  on"  in  front  was 
divided  by  a  feeling  of  painful  uneasiness  at  my  ridiculous 
dress,  and  the  shame  I  experienced  at  the  glances  bestowed 
on  me  by  the  soldiers  of  the  escort.  It  was  no  time,  however, 
to  speak  of  myself  or  attend  to  my  own  fortunes,  and  I  loi- 
tered about  the  court  of  the  inn  wondering  if  in  the  midst  of 
such  stirring  events  the  general  would  chance  to  remember 
me.  If  I  had  but  a  frock  and  a  shako,  thought  I,  I  could 
make  my  way.  It  is  this  confounded  velvet  jacket  and  this 
absurd  and  tapering  hat  will  be  my  ruin.  If  I  were  to  charge 
a  battery,  I  'd  only  look  like  a  merry-andrew  after  all ;  men 
will  not  respect  what  is  only  laughable.  Perhaps  after  all, 
thought  I,  it  matters  little ;  doubtless  Massena  has  forgotten 
me,  and  I  shall  be  left  behind  like  a  broken  limber.  At 
one  time  I  blamed  myself  for  not  pushing  on  with  some 
detachment ;  at  another  I  half  resolved  to  put  a  bold  face  on 
it,  and  present  myself  before  the  general ;  and  between 
regrets  for  the  past  and  doubts  for  the  future,  I  at  last 
worked  myself  up  to  a  state  of  anxiety  little  short  of 
fever. 

While  I  walked  to  and  fro  in  this  distracted  mood  I  per- 
ceived, by  the  bustle  within  doors,  that  the  general  was 
about  to  depart;  at  the  same  time  several  dismounted 
dragoons  appeared  leading  saddle-horses,  tightening  girths, 
and  adjusting  curb-chains,  all  tokens  of  a  start.  W'iiile  I 
looked  on  these  preparations,  I  heard  the  clatter  of  a  horse's 
hoofs  close  behind  and  the  spluttering  noise  of  a  struggle. 
I  turned  and  saw  it  was  the  general  himself,  who  had  just 
mounted  his  charger;  but  before  catching  his  right  stirrup 


510  I^IAURICE  TIERXAY. 

the  horse  had  plunged,  and  was  dragging  the  orderly  across 
the  com-t  by  the  bridle.  Seeing,  in  an  instant,  that  the  sol- 
dier's effort  to  hold  on  was  only  depri\ing  General  Massena 
of  all  command  of  the  horse,  who  must  probably  have  fallen 
on  his  flank,  I  jumped  forward,  caught  the  stirrup  and 
slipped  it  over  the  general's  foot,  and  then  with  a  sharp  blow 
on  the  soldier's  wrist  compelled  him  to  relax  his  grasp. 
So  suddenly  were  the  two  movements  effected,  that  in  less  time 
than  I  take  to  relate  it  all  was  over,  and  the  general,  who  for 
a  heavy  man  was  a  good  rider,  was  fast  seated  in  his  saddle. 
I  had  now  no  time,  however,  to  bestow  on  him ;  for  the 
dragoon,  stung  by  the  insult  of  a  blow,  and  from  a  peasant 
as  he  deemed  it,  rushed  at  me  with  his  sabre. 

''''  Halte  la!"  cried  Massena,  in  a  voice  of  thunder;  "it 
was  that  country  fellow  saved  me  from  a  broken  bone,*  which 
your  infernal  awkwardness  might  have  given  me.  Throw 
him  a  couple  of  florins  for  me,"  cried  he  to  his  aide-de-camp, 
who  just  rode  in  ;  "  and  do  you,  sir,  join  your  ranks  ;  I  must 
look  for  another  orderly." 

"  I  am  right  glad  to  have  been  in  the  way.  General,"  said 
I,  springing  forward  and  touching  my  hat. 

"  What,  Tiernay  !  —  this  you?  "  cried  he.  "  How  is  this? 
Have  I  forgotten  you  all  this  time?  What's  to  be  done 
now  ?  You  ought  to  have  gone  on  with  the  rest.  Monsieur. 
You  should  have  volunteered  with  some  corps,  eh?  " 

"  I  hoped  to  have  been  attached  to  yourself.  General.  I 
thought  I  could,  perhaps,  have  made  myself  useful." 

"Yes,  yes,  very  true;  so  you  might,  I've  no  doubt;  but 
my  staff  is  full,  I've  no  vacancy.  What  's  to  be  done  now? 
Lestocque,  have  we  any  spare  cattle?" 

"  Yes,  General;  we've  your  own  eight  horses,  and  two  of 
Cambronne's." 

"Ah,  poor  fellow,  he'll  not  want  them  more.  I  suppose 
Tiernay  may  as  well  take  one  of  them,  at  least." 

"  There  's  an  undress  uniform,  too,  of  Cambronne's  would 
fit  Monsieur  de  Tiernay,"  said  the  officer,  who  I  saw  had  no 
fancy  for  my  motley  costume  alongside  of  him. 

"  Oh,  Tiernay  does  n't  care  for  that ;  he  's  too  old  a  soldier 
to  bestow  a  thought  upon  the  color  of  his  jacket,"  said 
Massena. 


THE   MAKCH  ON  VIENNA.  511 

"  Pardon  me,  General,  but  it  is  exactly  one  of  my  weak- 
nesses ;  and  I  feel  that  until  I  get  rid  of  these  trappings  I 
shall  never  feel  myself  a  soldier." 

"  I  thought  you  had  been  made  of  other  stuff,"  muttered 
the  general,  "  and  particularly  since  there  's  like  to  be  little 
love-making  in  the  present  campaign."  And  with  that  he 
rode  forward,  leaving  me  to  follow  when  I  could. 

"These  are  Cambronne's  keys,"  said  Lestocque,  "and 
you  '11  find  enough  for  your  present  wants  in  the  saddle-bags. 
Take  the  gray,  he 's  the  better  horse,  and  come  up  with  us  as 
fast  as  you  can." 

I  saw  that  I  had  forfeited  something  of  General  Mas- 
sena's  good  opinion  by  my  dandyism ;  but  I  was  consoled  in 
a  measure  for  the  loss,  as  I  saw  the  price  at  which  I  bought 
the  forfeiture.  The  young  officer  who  had  fallen  three  days 
before,  and  was  a  nephew  of  the  General  Cambronne,  was  a 
lieutenant  in  Murat's  celebrated  corps,  the  Lancers  of  Berg, 
whose  uniform  was  the  handsomest  in  the  French  army. 
Even  the  undress  scarlet  frock  and  small  silver  helmet  were 
more  splendid  than  many  full  parade  uniforms;  and  as  I 
attired  myself  in  these  brilliant  trappings,  I  secretly  vowed 
that  the  Austrians  should  see  them  in  some  conspicuous 
position  ere  a  month  was  over.  If  I  had  but  one  sigh  for 
the  poor  fellow  to  whose  galanterie  I  succeeded,  I  had 
many  a  smile  for  myself  as  I  passed  and  repassed  before  the 
glass,  adjusting  a  belt  or  training  an  aigrette  to  fall  more 
gracefully.  While  thus  occupied,  I  felt  something  heavy 
click  against  my  leg,  and  opening  the  sabretasch  discovered 
a  purse  containing  upwards  of  forty  golden  Napoleons  and 
some  silver.  It  was  a  singular  way  to  succeed  to  a  heri- 
tage, I  thought ;  but,  with  the  firm  resolve  to  make  honest 
restitution,  I  replaced  the  money  where  I  found  it,  and 
descended  the  stairs,  my  sabre  jingling  and  my  spurs  clank- 
ing, to  the  infinite  admiration  of  the  hostess  and  her  hand- 
maiden, who  looked  on  my  transformation  as  a  veritable 
piece  of  magic. 

I  'm  sure  Napoleon  himself  had  not  framed  one-half  as 
many  plans  for  that  campaign  as  I  did  while  I  rode  along. 
By  a  close  study  of  the  map  and  the  aid  of  all  the  oral 
information  in  my  power,  I  had  at  length  obtained  a  tolerably 


512  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

accurate  notion  of  the  country ;  and  I  saw,  or  I  thought  I 
saw,  at  least  half  a  dozen  distinct  ways  of  annihilating  the 
Austrians.  I  have  often  since  felt  sliame,  even  to  myself,  at 
the  effrontery  with  which  I  discussed  the  great  manoeuvres 
going  forward,  and  the  unblushing  coolness  with  which  I 
proffered  my  opinions  and  my  criticisms ;  and  I  really 
believe  that  General  Massena  tolerated  my  boldness  rather 
for  the  amusement  it  afforded  him  than  from  any  other  cause. 

"  Well,  Tiernay,"  said  he,  as  a  fresh  order  reached  him, 
with  the  most  pressing  injunction  to  hurry  forward,  "  we  are 
to  move  at  once  on  Moosburg ;  what  does  that  portend  ?  " 

"Sharp  work.  General,"  replied  I,  not  noticing  the  sly 
malice  of  the  question;  "  the  Austrians  are  there  in  force." 

"  Do  your  grenadiers  say  so?  "  asked  he,  sarcastically. 

"No,  General;  but  as  the  base  of  the  operations  is  the 
Iser,  they  must  needs  guard  all  the  bridges  over  the  river,  as 
well  as  protect  the  high-road  to  Vienna  by  Landshut." 

' '  But  you  forget  that  Landshut  is  a  good  eight  leagues 
from  that,"  said  he,  with  a  laugh. 

"They'll  have  to  fall  back  there,  nevertheless,"  said  I, 
coolly,  "or  they  suffer  themselves  to  be  cutoff  from  their 
own  centre." 

"  Would  you  believe  it?"  whispered  Massena  to  a  colonel 
at  his  side,  "the  fellow  has  just  guessed  our  intended 
movement." 

Low  as  he  spoke,  my  quick  ears  caught  the  words,  and  my 
heart  thumped  with  delight  as  I  heard  them.  This  was  the 
Emperor's  strategy  :  Massena  was  to  fall  impetuously  on  the 
enemy's  left  at  Moosburg,  and  drive  them  to  a  retreat  on 
Landshut;  when,  at  the  moment  of  the  confusion  and  dis- 
order, they  were  to  be  attacked  by  Napoleon  himself,  with  a 
vastly  superior  force. 

The  game  opened  even  sooner  than  expected,  and  a  few 
minutes  after  the  conversation  I  have  reported  our  Tirailleurs 
were  exchanging  shots  with  the  enemy.  These  sounds,  how- 
ever, were  soon  drowned  in  the  louder  din  of  artillery,  which 
thundered  away  at  both  sides  till  nightfall.  It  was  a  strange 
species  of  engagement,  for  we  continued  to  march  on  the 
entire  time,  the  enemy  as  steadily  retiring  before  us,  while 
the  incessant  cannonade  never  ceased. 


THE   MARCH  ON   VIENNA.  513 

Although  frequently  sent  to  the  front  with  orders,  I  saw- 
nothing  of  the  Austrians  ;  a  low  line  of  bluish  smoke  towards 
the  horizon,  now  and  then  Hashing  into  llanie,  denoted  their 
position,  —  and  as  we  were  about  as  invisible  to  them,  a  less 
exciting  kind  of  warfare  would  be  dilhcult  to  conceive. 
Neither  was  the  destruction  important;  many  of  the  Aus- 
trian shot  were  buried  in  the  deep  clay  in  our  front,  and 
considering  the  time  and  the  number  of  pieces  in  action  our 
loss  was  msigniticant.  Soldiers,  if  they  be  not  the  trained 
veterans  of  a  hundred  battles,  grow  very  impatient  in  this 
kind  of  operation ;  they  cannot  conceive  why  they  are  not 
led  forward,  and  wonder  at  the  -over  caution  of  the  general. 
Ours  were  mostly  young  levies,  and  were  consequently  very 
profuse  of  their  comments  and  complaints. 

"Have  patience,  my  brave  boys !  "  said  an  old  sergeant 
to  some  of  the  grumblers.  "  I've  seen  some  service,  and  I 
never  saw  a  battle  open  this  way  that  there  was  n't  plenty  of 
fighting  ere  it  was  over." 

A  long  low  range  of  hills  bounds  the  plain  to  the  west  of 
Moosburg ;  and  on  these,  as  night  closed,  our  bivouac  fires 
were  lighted,  some  of  them  extending  to  nearly  half  a  mile 
to  the  left  of  our  real  position,  and  giving  the  Austrians  the 
impression  that  our  force  was  stationed  in  that  direction.  A 
thin,  drizzly  rain,  cold  enough  to  be  sleet,  was  falling ;  and 
as  the  ground  had  been  greatly  cut  up  by  the  passage  of 
artillery  and  cavalry,  a  less  comfortable  spot  to  bivouac  in 
could  not  be  imagined.  It  was  difficult,  too,  to  obtain  wood 
for  our  fires,  and  our  prospects  for  the  dark  hours  were 
scarcely  brilliant.  The  soldiers  grumbled  loudly  at  being 
obliged  to  sit  and  cook  their  messes  at  the  murky  flame  of 
damp  straw,  while  the  fires  at  our  left  blazed  away  gayly 
without  one  to  profit  by  them.  Frenchmen,  however,  are 
rarely  ill-humored  in  face  of  the  enemy,  and  their  complaints 
assumed  all  the  sarcastic  drollery  which  they  so  well  under- 
stand; and  even  over  their  half-dressed  supper  they  were 
beginning  to  grow  merry,  when  staff  officers  were  seen  trav- 
ersmg  the  lines  at  full  speed  in  all  directions. 

"We  are  attacked!  the  Austrians  are  upon  us !"  cried 
two  or  three  soldiers,  snatching  up  their  muskets. 

"  No,  no,  friend,"  replied  a  veteran,  "  it 's  the  other  way; 
we  are  going  at  them." 

33 


514  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

This  was  the  true  reading  of  the  problem ;  orders  were 
sent  to  every  brigade  to  form  in  close  column  of  attack, 
artillery  and  cavalry  to  advance  under  their  cover  and  readv 
to  deploy  at  a  moment's  notice. 

Moosburg  lay  something  short  of  two  miles  from  us,  hav- 
ing the  Iser  in  front,  over  which  was  a  wooden  bridge  pro- 
tected by  a  strong  flanking  battery.  The  river  was  not 
passable,  nor  had  we  any  means  of  transporting  artillery 
across  it ;  so  that  to  this  spot  our  main  attack  was  at  once 
dn-ected.  Had  the  Austrian  General  Heller,  who  was  second 
in  command  to  the  Archduke  Louis,  either  cut  off  the  bridge 
or  taken  effectual  measures  to  oppose  its  passage,  the  great 
events  of  the  campaign  might  have  assumed  a  very  different 
feature.  It  is  said,  however,  that  an  enth'e  Austrian  brigade 
was  encamped  near  Freising,  and  that  the  communication 
was  left  open  to  save  them.  Still,  it  must  be  owned  that  the 
imperialists  took  few  precautions  for  their  safety;  for,  de- 
ceived by  our  line  of  watch-fires,  the  pickets  extended  but  a 
short  distance  into  the  plain,  and  when  attacked  by  our  light 
cavalry  many  of  them  were  cut  off  at  once,  and  of  those  who 
fell  back  several  traversed  the  bridge  with  their  pursuers  at 
their  heels. 

Such  was  the  impetuosit}^  of  the  French  attack,  that  al- 
though the  most  positive  orders  had  been  given  by  Massena 
that  not  more  than  three  guns  and  their  caissons  should 
traverse  the  bridge  together,  and  even  these  at  a  walk,  seven 
or  eight  were  seen  passing  at  the  same  instant  and  all  at  a 
gallop,  making  the  old  framework  so  rock  and  tremble  that 
it  seemed  ready  to  come  to  pieces.  As  often  happens,  the 
hardihood  proved  our  safety.  The  Austrians,  counting  upon 
our  slow  transit,  only  opened  a  heavy  fire  after  several  of  our 
pieces  had  crossed  and  were  alread}^  in  a  position  to  reply  to 
them.  Their  defence,  if  somewhat  late,  was  a  most  gallant 
one,  and  the  gunners  continued  to  fire  on  our  advancing 
columns  till  we  captured  the  block-house  and  sabred  the  men 
at  their  guns.  Meanwhile  the  Imperial  Cuirassiers,  twelve 
hundred  strong,  made  a  succession  of  furious  charges  upon 
us,  driving  our  light  cavalry,  away  before  them,  and  for  a 
brief  space  making  the  fortune  of  the  day  almost  doubtful. 
It  soon  appeared,  however,  that  these  brave  fellows  were 


THE   MARCH  ON  VIENNA.  515 

merely  covering  the  retreat  of  the  main  body,  who  in  all 
haste  were  falling  back  on  the  villages  of  Furth  and  Arth. 
Some  squadrons  of  Kellerman's  heavy  cavalry  gave  time  for 
our  light  artillery  to  open  their  fire,  and  the  Austrian  ranks 
were  rent  open  with  terrific  loss. 

Day  was  now  dawning,  and  showed  us  the  Austrian  army 
in  retreat  by  the  two  great  roads  towards  Landsbut.  Ever^^ 
rising  spot  of  ground  was  occupied  by  artillery,  and  in  some 
places  defended  by  stockades,  —  showing  plainly  enough 
that  all  hope  of  saving  the  guns  was  abandoned,  and  that 
they  only  thought  of  protecting  their  flying  columns  from  our 
attack.  These  dispositions  cost  us  heavily  ;  for  as  we  were 
obliged  to  carry  each  of  these  places  before  we  could  advance, 
the  loss  in  this  hand-to-hand  encounter  was  very  considerable. 
At  length,  however,  the  roads  became  so  blocked  up  by  ar- 
tillery that  the  infantry  were  driven  to  defile  into  the  swampy 
fields  at  the  road-side,  and  here  our  cavalry  cut  them  down 
unmercifully,  while  grape  tore  through  the  dense  masses  at 
half  musket-range. 

Had  discipline  or  command  been  possible,  our  condition 
might  have  been  made  perilous  enough;  since,  in  the 
impetuosity  of  attack,  large  masses  of  our  cavalry  got 
separated  from  their  support,  and  were  frequently  seen 
struggling  to  cut  their  way  out  of  the  closing  columns  of  the 
enemy.  Twice  or  thrice  it  actually  happened  that  officers 
surrendered  the  whole  squadron  as  prisoners,  and  were 
rescued  by  their  own  comrades  afterwards.  The  whole  was 
a  scene  of  pell-mell  confusion  and  disorder,  —  some,  aban- 
doning positions  when  successful  defence  was  possible ; 
others,  obstinately  holding  their  ground  when  destruction 
was  inevitable.  Few  prisoners  were  taken ;  indeed,  I  be- 
lieve quarter  was  little  thought  of  by  either  side.  The  terri- 
ble excitement  had  raised  men's  passions  to  the  pitch  of 
madness,  and  each  fought  with  all  the  animosity  of  hate. 

Massena  was  always  in  the  front,  and,  as  was  his  custom, 
comporting  himself  with  a  calm  steadiness  that  he  rarely 
displayed  in  the  common  occurrences  of  e very-day  life.  Like 
the  English  Picton,  the  crash  and  thunder  of  conflict  seemed 
to  soothe  and  assuage  the  asperities  of  an  irritable  temper, 
and  his  mind  appeared  to  find  a  congenial  sphere  in  the  tur- 


516  ]MAURICE   TIERXAY. 

moil  and  din  of  battle.  The  awkward  attempt  of  a  French 
squadron  to  gallop  in  a  deep  marsh,  where  men  and  horses 
were  rolling  indiscriminately  together,  actually  gave  him  a 
hearty  fit  of  laughter,  and  he  issued  his  orders  for  their 
recall  as  though  the  occurrence  were  a  good  joke.  It  was 
while  obsei'\"ing  this  incident  that  an  orderly  delivered  into 
his  hands  some  maps  and  papers  that  had  just  been  captured 
from  the  fourgon  of  a  staff-officer.  Turning  them  rapidly 
over,  Massena  chanced  upon  the  plan  of  a  bridge,  with  marks 
indicative  of  points  of  defence  at  either  side  of  it,  and  the 
arrangements  for  mining  it  if  necessary.  It  was  too  long  to 
represent  the  bridge  of  Moosburg,  and  must  probably 
mean  that  of  Landshut;  and  so  thinking,  and  deeming 
that  its  possession  might  be  important  to  the  Emperor, 
he  ordered  me  to  take  a  fresh  horse  and  hasten  with  it 
to  the  headquarters.  The  orders  I  received  were  vague 
enough. 

"You'll  come  up  with  the  advance  guard  some  eight  or 
nine  miles  to  the  northward ;  you  '11  chance  upon  some  of  the 
columns  near  Fleisheim." 

Such  were  the  hurried  directions  I  obtained,  in  the  midst 
of  the  smoke  and  din  of  a  battle ;  but  it  was  no  time  to  ask 
for  more  precise  instructions,  and  away  I  went. 

In  less  than  twenty  minutes'  sharp  riding  I  found  myself 
in  a  little  valley,  enclosed  by  low  hills  and  watered  by  a 
small  tributary  of  the  Danube,  along  whose  banks  cottages 
were  studded  in  the  midst  of  what  seemed  one  great  orchard, 
since  for  miles  the  white  and  pink  blossoms  of  finiit-trees 
were  to  be  seen  extending.  The  peasants  were  at  work  in 
the  fields,  and  the  oxen  were  toiling  along  with  the  heavy 
wagons  or  the  scarcely  less  cumbersome  plough,  as  peace- 
fully as  though  bloodshed  and  carnage  were  not  within  a 
thousand  miles  of  them.  No  high-road  penetrated  this 
secluded  spot,  and  hence  it  lay  secure,  while  ruin  and  devas- 
tation raged  at  either  side  of  it.  As  the  wind  was  from  the 
west,  nothing  could  be  heard  of  the  cannonade  towards 
Moosburg,  and  the  low  hills  completely  shut  out  all  signs  of 
the  conflict.  I  halted  at  a  little  waj'side  forge  to  have  a 
loose  shoe  fastened ;  and  in  the  crowd  of  gazers  who  stood 
around   me,    wondering    at  my   gay   trappings   and   gaudy 


THE   MARCH  ON  VIENNA.  517 

uniform,  not  one  had  the  slightest  suspicion  that  I  was  other 
than  Austrian.  One  old  man  asked  me  if  it  were  not  true 
that  the  "  French  were  coming;  "  and  another  laughed,  and 
said,  ''  They  had  better  not,"  —  and  there  was  all  they  knew 
of  that  terrible  struggle,  the  shock  that  was  to  rend  in  twain 
a  great  empii-e. 

Full  of  varied  thought  on  this  theme  I  mounted  and  rode 
forward.  At  first,  the  narrow  roads  were  so  deep  and  heavy 
that  I  made  little  progress ;  occasionally,  too,  I  came  to  little 
streams  traversed  by  a  bridge  of  a  single  plank,  and  was 
either  compelled  to  swim  my  horse  across  or  wander  long 
distances  in  search  of  a  ford.  These  •  obstructions  made  me 
impatient,  and  my  impatience  but  sensed  to  delay  me  more, 
and  all  my  efforts  to  push  directly  forwards  only  tended  to 
embarrass  me.  I  could  not  ask  for  guidance,  since  I  knew 
not  the  name  of  a  single  village  or  town,  and  to  have 
inquu'ed  for  the  direction  in  which  the  troops  were  stationed 
might  very  possibly  have  brought  me  into  danger. 

At  last,  and  after  some  hours  of  toilsome  wandering,  I 
reached  a  small  wayside  inn ;  and  resolving  to  obtain  some 
information  of  my  whereabouts,  I  asked  whither  the  road 
led  that  passed  through  a  long,  low,  swampy  plain,  and  dis- 
appeared in  a  pine- wood. 

''  To  Landshut,"  was  the  answer. 

"  And  the  distance?  " 

"Three  German  miles,"  said  the  host;  "but  they  are 
worse  than  five,  for  since  the  new  line  has  been  opened  this 
road  has  fallen  into  neglect.  Two  of  the  bridges  are  broken, 
and  a  landslip  has  completely  blocked  up  the  passage  at 
another  place." 

"  Then  how  am  I  to  gain  the  new  road? 

Alas !  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  going  back  to  the 
forge  where  I  had  stopped  three  hours  and  a  half  before,  and 
whence  I  could  take  a  narrow  bridle-path  to  Fleisheim  that 
would  bring  me  out  on  the  great  road.  The  very  thought  of 
retracing  my  way  was  intolerable.  ]\Iany  of  the  places  I 
had  leaped  my  horse  over  would  have  been  impossible  to 
cross  from  the  opposite  side ;  once  I  narrowly  escaped  being 
carried  down  by  a  mill-race ;  and,  in  fact,  no  dangers  nor 
inconveniences  of  the  road  in  front  of  me  could  equal  those 


518  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

of  the  course  I  had  just  come.  Besides  all  this,  to  return 
to  Fleisheim  would  probably  bring  me  far  in  the  rear  of  the 
advancing  columns,  while  if  I  pushed  on  towards  Landshut 
I  might  catch  sight  of  them  from  some  rising  spot  of 
ground. 

"  You  will  go,  I  see,"  cried  the  host,  as  he  saw  me  set 
out.  "Perhaps  you're  right;  the  old  adage  says,  'It's 
often  the  roughest  road  leads  to  the  smoothest  fortune.' " 

Even  that  much  encouragement  was  not  without  its  value. 
I  spurred  into  a  canter  with  fresh  spirits.  The  host  of  the 
little  inn  had  not  exaggerated,  —  the  road  was  execrable. 
Heavy  rocks  and  mounds  of  earth  had  slipped  down  with 
the  rains  of  winter,  and  remained  in  the  middle  of  the  way ; 
the  fallen  masonry  of  the  bridges  had  driven  the  streams 
into  new  channels  with  deep  pools  among  them ;  broken 
wagons  and  ruined  carts  marked  the  misfortunes  of  some 
who  had  ventured  on  the  track;  and  except  for  a  well- 
mounted  and  resolute  horseman  the  way  was  impracticable. 

I  was  well-nigh  overcome  by  fatigue  and  exhaustion,  as 
clambering  up  a  steep  hill,  with  the  bridle  on  my  arm,  I 
gained  the  crest  of  the  ridge  and  suddenly  saw  Landshut  — 
for  it  could  be  no  other — before  me.  I  have  looked  at 
many  new  pictures  and  scenes,  but  I  own  I  never  beheld 
one  that  gave  me  half  the  pleasure.  The  ancient  town,  with 
its  gaunt  old  belfries  and  still  more  ancient  castle,  stood  on 
a  bend  of  the  Inn,  which  was  here  crossed  by  a  long  wooden 
bridge  supported  on  boats,  a  wide  track  of  shingle  and 
gravel  on  either  side  showing  the  course  into  which  the  melt- 
ing snows  often  swelled  the  stream.  From  the  point  where 
I  stood  I  could  see  into  the  town.  The  Platz,  the  old  gar- 
dens of  the  nunnery,  the  terrace  of  the  castle,  all  were 
spread  out  before  me  ;  and  to  my  utter  surprise  there  seemed 
little. or  no  movement  going  forward.  There  were  two  guns 
in  position  at  the  bridge  ;  some  masons  were  at  work  on  the 
houses  beside  the  river  piercing  the  walls  for  the  use  of  mus- 
ketry, and  an  infantry  battalion  was  under  arms  in  the  mar- 
ket-place. These  were  all  the  preparations  I  could  discover 
against  the  advance  of  a  great  army.  But  so  it  was ;  the 
Austrian  spies  had  totally  misled  them,  and  while  they  be- 
lieved that  the  great  bulk  of  the  French  lay  around  Ratisbon, 


THE   MARCH  ON  VIENNA.  519 

the  centre  of  the  army,  sixty-five  thousaud  strong  and  led 
by  Napoleon  hhnself ,  was  in  march  to  the  southward. 

That  the  attack  on  Moosburg  was  still  unknown  at  Land- 
shut  seemed  certain  ;  and  I  now  perceived  that,  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  delays  I  had  met  with,  I  had  really  come  by  the 
most  direct  line,  —  whereas,  on  account  of  the  bend  of  the 
river  no  Austrian  courier  could  have  brought  tidings  of  the 
engagement  up  to  that  time.  My  attention  was  next  turned 
towards  the  dii'ection  whence  our  advance  might  be  expected  ; 
but  although  I  could  see  nearly  four*  miles  of  the  road,  not  a 
man  was  to  be  descried  along  it. 

I  slowly  descended  the  ridge,  and  passing  through  a 
meadow  was  approaching  the  high-road,  when  suddenly  I 
heard  the  clattering  of  a  horse  at  full  gallop  coming  along 
the  causeway.  I  mounted  at  once,  and  pushed  forward  to 
an  angle  of  the  road  by  which  I  was  concealed  from  all  view. 
The  next  instant,  a  Hungarian  hussar  turned  the  corner  at 
top  speed. 

"  AVhat  news?  "  cried  I,  in  German  ;   "  are  they  coming?  " 

"  Ay,  in  force !  "  shouted  he,  without  stopping. 

I  at  once  drew  my  pistol,  and  levelled  at  him.  The  man's 
back  was  towards  me,  and  my  bullet  would  have  pierced  his 
skull.  It  was  my  duty,  too,  to  have  shot  him,  for  moments 
were  then  worth  days  or  even  weeks.  I  could  n't  pull  the 
trigger,  however,  and  I  replaced  my  weapon  in  the  holster. 
Another  horseman  now  swept  past  without  perceiving  me, 
and  quickly  behind  him  came  a  half  squadron  of  hussars, 
all  riding  in  mad  haste  and  confusion.  The  horses,  though 
"  blown,"  were  not  sweated,  so  that  I  conjectured  they  had 
ridden  fast  though  not  far.  -Such  was  the  eagerness  to 
press  on,  and  so  intent  were  they  on  the  thought  of  their 
own  tidings,  that  none  saw  me,  and  the  whole  body  swept 
])y  and  disappeared.  I  waited  a  few  minutes  to  listen  ;  and 
as  the  clattering  towards  Landshut  died  away,  all  was 
silent. 

Trusting  to  my  knowledge  of  German  to  save  me  even  if 
I  fell  in  with  the  enemy,  I  now  rode  forward  at  speed  in  the 
direction  of  our  advance.  The  road  was  straight  as  an 
arrow  for  miles,  and  a  single  object  coming  towards  me  was 
all   I   could   detect.      This   proved   to  be  a  hussar  of   the 


520  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

squadron,  whose  horse,  being  dead  lame,  could  not  keep  up 
with  the  rest ;  and  now  the  poor  fellow  was  making  the  best 
of  his  way  back  as  well  as  he  was  able.  Of  what  use, 
thought  I,  to  make  him  my  prisoner,  —  one  more  or  less  at 
such  a  time  can  be  of  slight  avail ;  so  I  merely  halted  him  to 
ask  how  near  the  French  were.  The  man  could  only  speak 
Hungarian,  but  made  signs  that  the  lancers  were  close  upon 
us,  and  counselled  me  to  make  my  escape  into  the  town  with 
all  speed.  I  intimated  by  a  gesture  that  I  could  trust  to  my 
horse,  and  we  parted.  He  was  scarcely  out  of  sight  when 
the  bright  gleam  of  brass  helmets  came  into  view  towards 
the  west,  and  then  I  could  make  out  the  shining  cuirasses  of 
the  Corps  de  Guides,  as,  mounted  on  their  powerful  horses, 
they  came  galloping  along. 

"  I  thought  I  was  foremost,"  said  a  young  officer  to  me  as 
he  rode  up.     "  How  came  you  in  advance? " 

"•Where's  the  Etat-major?"  cried  I,  in  haste,  and  not 
heeding  his  question.     "  I  have  a  despatch  for  the  Emperor." 

"Follow  the  road,"  said  he,  "and  you'll  come  up  with 
them  in  half  an  hour." 

And  with  these  hurried  words  we  passed  each  other.  A 
sharp  pistol  report  a  moment  after  told  me  what  had  befallen 
the  poor  Hungarian;  but  I  had  little  time  to  think  of  his 
fate.  Our  squadrons  were  coming  on  at  a  sharp  pace,  while 
in  their  rear  the  jingling  crash  of  horse-artillery  resounded. 
From  a  gentle  rise  of  the  road  I  could  see  a  vast  distance  of 
country,  and  perceive  that  the  French  columns  extended  for 
miles  away,  —  the  great  chaussee  being  reserved  for  the  heavy 
artillery,  while  every  bj^-road  and  lane  were  filled  with  troops 
of  all  arms  hurrying  onwards  It  was  one  of  those  precipi- 
tous movements  by  which  Napoleon  so  often  paralyzed  an 
enemy  at  once,  and  finished  a  campaign  by  one  daring 
exploit. 

At  such  a  time  it  was  in  vain  for  me  to  ask  in  what  direc- 
tion the  staff  might  be  found ;  all  were  eager  and  intent  on 
theii'  own  projects,  and  as  squadron  after  squadron  passed 
I  saw  it  was  a  moment  for  action  rather  than  for  thought. 
Still,  I  did  not  like  to  abandon  all  hope  of  succeeding  after 
so  much  of  peril  and  fatigue ;  and  seeing  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  advance  as-ainst  the  flood  of  horse  and  artillerv  that 


THE   MARCH  ON  VIENNA.  521 

formed  along  the  roatl,  I  jumped  my  horse  into  a  field  at  the 
side  and  pushed  forward.  Even  here  however  the  passage 
was  not  quite  clear,  since  manj^  in  their  eagerness  to  get  for- 
ward had  taken  to  the  same  line,  and  with  cheering  cries  and 
wild  shouts  of  joy  were  galloping  on.  My  showy  uniform 
drew  many  an  eye  towards  me ;  and  at  last  a  staff-odicor 
cried  out  to  me  to  stop,  pointing  with  his  sabre  as  he  spoke 
to  a  hill  a  short  distance  off  where  a  group  of  officers  were 
standing. 

This  was  General  Moulon  and  his  staff,  under  whose  order 
the  advanced  guard  was  placed. 

"A  despatch,  ^  whence  from?"  cried  he  hastily,  as  I 
rode  up. 

"No,  sir;  a  plan  of  the  bridge  of  Landshut,  taken  from 
the  enemy  this  morning  at  IMoosburg." 

' '  Are  they  still  there  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  By  this  time  they  must  be  close  upon  Landshut;  they 
were  in  full  retreat  when  I  left  them  at  daybreak." 

"  We'll  be  able  to  speak  of  the  bridge  without  this,"  said 
he,  laughing,  and  turning  towards  his  staff,  while  he  handed 
the  sketch  carelessly  to  some  one  beside  him  ;  "  and  you  '11 
serve  the  Emperor  quite  as  well,  sir,  by  coming  with  us  as 
hastening  to  the  rear." 

I  professed  myself  ready  and  willing  to  follow  his  orders, 
and  away  I  went  with  the  staff,  well  pleased  to  be  once  more 
on  active  service. 

Two  cannon  shots  and  a  rattling  crash  of  small  arms  told 
us  that  the  combat  had  begun ;  and  as  we  rose  the  hill,  the 
bridge  of  Landshut  was  seen  on  fire  in  three  places.  Either 
from  some  mistake  of  his  orders  or  not  daring  to  assume  a 
responsibility  for  what  was  beyond  the  strict  line  of  duty, 
the  French  commander  of  the  artillery  placed  his  guns  in 
position  along  the  river's  bank,  and  prepared  to  reply  to  the 
fire  now  opening  from  the  town  instead  of  at  once  dashing 
onward  within  the  gates.  INIoulon  hastened  to  repair  tlie 
'  error ;  but  by  the  delay  in  pushing  through  the  dense  masses 
of  horse,  foot,  and  artillery  that  crowded  the  passage,  it  was 
full  twenty  minutes  ere  he  came  up.  With  a  storm  of  oaths 
on  the  stupidity  of  the  artillery  colonel,  he  ordered  the  firing 
to  cease,  commanding  both  the  cavalry  and  the  train  wagons 


522  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

to  move  right  and  left,  and  give  place  for  a  grenadier  batta- 
lion who  were  coming  briskly  on  with  then*  muskets  at  the 
sling. 

The  scene  was  now  a  madly  exciting  one.  The  chevaux- 
de-frise  at  one  end  of  the  bridge  was  blazing  ;  but  be^^ond  it, 
on  the  bridge,  the  Austrian  engineer  and  his  men  were  scat- 
tering combustible  material,  and  with  hempen  torches  touch- 
ing the  new-pitched  timbers.  An  incessant  roll  of  musketry 
issued  from  the  houses  on  the  river-side,  with  now  and  then 
the  deeper  boom  of  a  large  gun,  while  the  roar  of  voices  and 
the  crashing  noise  of  artillery  passing  through  the  streets 
swelled  into  a  fearful  chorus.  The  French  sappers  quickly 
removed  the  burning  chevaux-de-frise,  and  hurled  the  flaming 
timbers  into  the  stream ;  and  scarcely  was  this  done  when 
Moulon,  dismounting,  advanced,  cheering,  at  the  head  of  his 
grenadiers.  Charging  over  the  burning  bridge,  they  rushed 
forward ;  but  then-  way  was  arrested  by  the  strong  timbers 
of  a  massive  portcullis,  which  closed  the  passage.  This  had 
been  concealed  from  our  view  by  the  smoke  and  flame ;  and 
now,  as  the  press  of  men  from  behind  grew  each  instant 
more  powerful,  a  scene  of  terrible  suffering  ensued.  The 
enemy  too  poured  down  a  deadly  discharge,  and  grape-shot 
tore  through  us  at  pistol-range.  The  onward  rush  of  the 
columns  to  the  rear  defied  retreat,  and  in  the  mad  confusion 
all  orders  and  commands  were  unheard  or  unheeded. 

Not  knowing  what  delayed  our  advance,  I  was  busily 
engaged  in  suppressing  a  fire  at  one  of  the  middle  buttresses, 
when,  mounting  the  parapet,  I  saw  the  cause  of  our  halt.  I 
happened  to  have  caught  up  one  of  the  pitched  torches  at 
the  instant,  and  the  thought  at  once  struck  me  how  to  employ 
it.  To  reach  the  portcullis,  no  other  road  lay  open  than  the 
parapet  itself,  —  a  wooden  railing,  wide  enough  for  a  foot- 
ing, but  exposed  to  the  whole  fire  of  the  houses.  There  was 
little  time  for  the  choice  of  alternatives,  even  had  our  fate 
offered  any ;  so  I  dashed  on,  and,  as  the  balls  whizzed  and 
whistled  around  me,  reached  the  front.  It  was  a  terrible 
thing  to  touch  the  timbers  against  which  our  men  were 
actually  flattened,  and  to  set  fire  to  the  bars  around  which 
their  hands  were  clasped ;  but  I  saw  that  the  Austrian 
musketry  had  abeady  done  its  work  on  the  leading  files, 


THE   INIAECH  ON  VIENNA.  523 

and  that  not  one  man  was  living  amongst  them.  By  a 
blunder  of  one  of  the  sappers,  the  portcullis  had  been 
smeared  with  pitch  like  the  bridge ;  and  as  I  applied  the 
torch,  the  blaze  sprung  up,  and  encouraged  by  the  rush  of 
an-  bet^Yeen  the  beams  spread  in  a  second  over  the  whole 
structui-e.  Expecting  my  death- wound  at  every  instant,  I 
never  ceased  my  task  even  when  it  had  become  no  longer 
necessary,  impelled  by  a  kind  of  insane  persistence  to  destroy 
the  barrier.  The  wind  carrying  the  flame  inward,  however, 
had  compelled  the  Austrians  to  fall  back,  and  ])efore  they 
could  again  open  a  collected  fire  on  us  the  way  was  open, 
and  the  grenadiers  like  enraged  tigers  rushed  wildly  in. 

I  remember  that  my  coat  was  twice  on  fire,  as,  carried  on 
my  comrades'  shoulders,  I  was  borne  along  into  the  town. 
I  recollect  too  the  fearful  scene  of  suffering  that  ensued,  the 
mad  butchery  at  each  doorway  as  we  passed,  the  piercing 
cries  for  mercy  and  the  groan  of  dying  agony.  AYar  has  no 
such  terrible  spectacle  as  a  town  taken  by  infuriated  sol- 
diery, and  even  amongst  the  best  of  natures  a  relentless 
cruelty  usurps  the  place  of  every  chivalrous  feeling. 

When  or  how  I  was  wounded  I  never  could  ascertain ;  but 
a  round  shot  had  penetrated  my  thigh,  tearing  the  muscles 
into  shreds,  and  giving  to  the  surgeon  who  saw  me  the 
simple  task  of  saying,  "  Enlevez-le, — point  d'espoir."  I 
heard  thus  much,  and  I  have  some  recollection  of  a  com- 
rade having  kissed  my  forehead,  and  there  ended  my  reminis- 
cences of  Laudshut.  Nay,  I  am  wrong ;  I  cherish  another 
and  a  more  glorious  one. 

It  was  about  four  daj's  after  this  occurrence  that  the  sur- 
geon in  charge  of  the  military  hospital  was  obliged  to  secure 
by  ligature  a  branch  of  the  femoral  artery  which  had  been 
traversed  by  the  ball  through  my  thigh.  The  operation  was 
a  tedious  and  difficult  one,  for  round  shot,  it  would  seem, 
have  little  respect  for  anatomy,  and  occasionally  displace 
muscles  in  a  sad  fashion.  I  was  very  weak  after  it  was 
over,  and  orders  were  left  to  give  a  spoonful  of  Bordeaux 
and  water  from  time  to  time  during  the  evening,  —  a  du-ec- 
tion  which  I  listened  to  attentively,  and  never  permitted  my 
orderly  to  neglect.  In  fact,  like  a  genuine  sick  man's  fancy, 
it  caught  possession  of  my  mind  that  this  wine  and  water 


524  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

was  to  save  me ;  and  in  the  momentary  rally  of  excitement 
it  gave,  I  thought  I  tasted  health  once  more.  In  this  impres- 
sion I  never  awoke  from  a  short  doze  without  a  request  for 
my  cordial,  and  half  mechanically  would  make  signs  to  wet 
my  lips  as  I  slept. 

It  was  near  sunset,  and  I  was  lying  with  unclosed  eyes, 
not  asleep,  but  in  that  semi-conscious  state  that  great  bodily 
depression  and  loss  of  blood  induce.  The  ward  was  unusu- 
ally quiet,  the  little  buzz  of  voices  that  generally  mingled 
through  the  accents  of  suffering  were  hushed,  and  I  could 
hear  the  surgeon's  well-known  voice  as  he  spoke  to  some 
persons  at  the  farther  end  of  the  chamber. 

By  their  stopping  from  time  to  time,  I  could  remark  that 
they  were  inspecting  the  different  beds,  but  their  voices  were 
low  and  their  steps  cautious  and  noiseless. 

"  Tiernay  —  this  is  Tiernay,"  said  some  one,  reading  my 
name  from  the  paper  over  my  head.  Some  low  words  which 
I  could  not  catch  followed,  and  then  the  surgeon  replied,  — 

"  There  is  a  chance  for  him  yet,  though  the  debility  is 
greatly  to  be  feared." 

I  made  a  sign  at  once  to  my  mouth,  and  after  a  second's 
delay  the  spoon  touched  my  lips,  but  so  awkwardly  was  it 
applied  that  the  fluid  ran  down  my  chin;  with  a  sickly 
impatience  I  turned  away,  but  a  mild  low  voice,  soft  as  a 
woman's,  said,  — 

'^  Allans!  let  me  try  once  more;"  and  now  the  spoon 
met  m}^  lips  with  due  dexterity. 

"  Thanks,"  said  I,  faintly,  and  I  opened  my  eyes. 

"You'll  soon  be  about  again,  Tiernay,"  said  the  same 
voice ;  as  for  the  person,  I  could  distinguish  nothing,  for 
there  were  six  or  seven  around  me ;  ' '  and  if  I  know  any- 
thing of  a  soldier's  heart,  this  will  do  just  as  much  as  the 
doctor." 

As  he  spoke  he  detached  from  his  coat  a  small  enamel 
cross  and  placed  it  in  my  hand,  with  a  gentle  squeeze  of  the 
fingers,  and  then  saying,  Au  revoir^  moved  on. 

"Who's  that?"  cried  I,  suddenly,  while  a  strange  thrill 
ran  through  me. 

"  Hush  !  "  whispered  the  surgeon,  cautiously,  —  "  hush  ! 
it  is  the  Emperor." 


«^'  :'^  •■^'i'lHir^tlWife.- ^i^ 


/a  /  y^yy.'/^^>/^y  .-yyf:-^4<it'/^i^^'zy'y<:i!^2</y^,^  '  l/y^^y^/-^  /vv  v  / 


-T5-4.R  ^- 


/' 


M 


CHAPTER   LI. 

"schonbrunn"  in  1809. 

About  two  mouths  afterwards,  on  a  warm  evening  of  sum- 
mer, I  entered  Vienna  in  a  litter,  along  with  some  twelve 
hundred  other  wounded  men,  escorted  by  a  regiment  of 
cuirassiers.  I  was  weak  and  unable  to  walk ;  the  fever  of 
m}"  wound  had  reduced  me  to  a  skeleton  ;  but  I  was  consoled 
for  everything  by  knowing  that  I  was  a  captain  on  the 
Emperor's  own  staff,  and  decorated  by  himself  with  the 
Cross  of  the  Legion.  Xor  were  these  my  only  distinctions  ; 
for  my  name  had  been  included  among  the  lists  of  the 
Officiers  d' Elite,  —  a  new  institution  of  the  Emperor,  enjoy- 
ing considerable  privileges  and  increase  of  pay. 

To  this  latter  elevation,  too,  I  owed  my  handsome  quar- 
ters in  the  Raab  Palace  at  Vienna,  and  the  sentry  at  my 
door,  like  that  of  a  field-officer.  Fortune,  indeed,  began  to 
smile  upon  me ;  and  never  are  her  flatteries  more  welcome 
than  in  the  first  hours  of  returning  health,  after  a  long  sick- 
ness. I  was  visited  by  the  first  men  of  the  army ;  marshals 
and  generals  figured  among  the  names  of  my  intimates,  and 
invitations  flowed  in  upon  me  from  all  that  were  distin- 
guished by  rank  and  station. 

Vienna  at  that  period  presented  few  features  of  a  city 
occupied  by  an  enemy.  The  guards,  it  is  true,  on  all 
arsenals  and  forts  were  French,  and  tlie  gates  were  held  by 
them ;  but  there  was  no  interruption  U)  the  ccnirse  of  trade 
and  commerce.  The  theatres  were  open  every  night,  and 
balls  and  receptions  went  on  with  only  redoubled  frequency. 
Unlike  his  policy  towards  Prussia,  Napoleon  abstained  from 
all  that  might  humiliate  the  Austrians.  Every  possible  con- 
cession was  made  to  their  natural  tastes  and  feelings,  and 
oflScers  of  all  ranks  in  the  French  army  were  strictly  enjoined 


526  MAURICE   TIERNAY. 

to  observe  a  conduct  of  conciliation  and  civility  on  every 
occasion  of  intercourse  with  the  citizens.  Few  general 
orders  could  be  more  palatable  to  Frenchmen,  and  they  set 
about  the  task  of  cultivating  the  good  esteem  of  the  Vien- 
nese with  a  most  honest  desire  for  success.  Accident,  too, 
aided  their  efforts  not  a  little ;  for  it  chanced  that  a  short 
time  before  the  battle  of  Aspern  the  city  had  been  garrisoned 
by  Croat  and  Wallachian  regiments,  whose  officers,  scarcely 
half  civilized,  and  with  all  the  brutal  ferocity  of  barbarian 
tribes,  were  most  favorably  supplanted  by  Frenchmen  in 
the  best  of  possible  tempers  with  themselves  and  the  world. 

It  might  be  argued,  that  the  Austrians  would  have  shown 
more  patriotism  in  holding  themselves  aloof,  and  avoiding 
all  interchange  of  civilities  with  their  conquerors.  Perhaps, 
too,  this  line  of  conduct  would  have  prevailed  to  a  greater 
extent  had  not  those  in  high  places  set  an  opposite  example. 
But  so  it  was ;  and  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  more  favorable 
treatment  in  their  last  extremity,  the  princes  of  the  Imperial 
House,  and  the  highest  nobles  of  the  land,  freely  accepted 
the  invitations  of  our  marshals,  and  as  freely  received  them 
at  then-  own  tables. 

There  was  something  of  pride,  too,  in  the  way  these  great 
families  continued  to  keep  up  the  splendor  of  their  house- 
holds, large  retinues  of  servants  and  gorgeous  equipages, 
when  the  very  empire  itself  was  crumbling  to  pieces ;  and 
to  the  costly  expenditure  of  that  fevered  interval  may  be 
dated  the  ruin  of  some  of  the  richest  of  the  Austrian  nobil- 
ity. To  maintain  a  corresponding  style,  and  to  receive  the 
proud  guests  with  suitable  magnificence,  enormous  "allow- 
ances "  were  made  to  the  French  generals ;  while  in  striking 
contrast  to  all  the  splendor,  the  Emperor  Napoleon  lived  at 
Schonbrunn  with  a  most  simple  household  and  restricted 
retinue. 

Berthier's  Palace,  in  the  Graben,  was  by  its  superior  mag- 
nificence the  recognized  centre  of  French  society  ;  and  thither 
flocked  every  evening  all  that  was  most  distinguished  in  rank 
of  both  nations.  Motives  of  policy,  or  at  least  the  terrible 
pressure  of  necessity,  filled  these  salons  with  the  highest 
personages  of  the  empire ;  while,  as  if  accepting  as  inevita- 
ble the  glorious  ascendancy  of  Xapoleou,  many  of  the  French 


"SCHONBRUNN"  IN   1809.  527 

emigre  families  emerged  from  their  retirement  to  pay  their 
court  to  the  favored  lieutenants  of  Napoleon.  Marmont, 
who  was  highly  connected  with  the  French  aristocracy,  gave 
no  slight  aid  to  this  movement,  and,  it  was  currently  believed 
at  the  time,  was  secretly  intrusted  by  the  Emperor  with  the 
task  of  accomplishing  what  in  modern  phrase  is  styled  a 
"  fusion." 

The  real  source  of  all  these  flattering  attentions  on  the 
Austrian  side,  however,  was  the  well-founded  dread  of  the 
partition  of  the  empire,  —  a  plan  over  which  Napoleon  was 
then  hourly  in  deliberation,  and  to  the  non-accomplishment 
of  which  he  ascribed,  in  the  days  of  his  last  exile,  all  the 
calamities  of  his  fall.  Be  this  as  it  may,  few  thoughts  of 
the  graver  interests  at  stake  disturbed  the  pleasure  we  felt 
in  the  luxurious  life  of  that  delightful  city ;  nor  can  I, 
through  the  whole  of  a  long  and  varied  career,  call  to  mind 
any  period  of  more  unmixed  enjoyment. 

Fortune  stood  by  me  in  everything.  Marshal  Marmont 
required  as  the  head  of  his  Etat-major  an  officer  who  could 
speak  and  write  German,  and,  if  possible,  who  understood 
the  Tyrol  dialect.  I  was  selected  for  the  appointment ;  but 
then  there  arose  a  difficulty.  The  etiquette  of  the  service 
demanded  that  the  chef  d'etat-major  should  be  at  least  a 
lieutenant-colonel,  and  I  was  but  a  captain. 

"No  matter,"  said  he;  "you  are  officier  d'elite^  which 
always  gives  brevet  rank,  and  so  one  step  more  will  place 
you  where  we  want  you.  Come  with  me  to  Schonbrunn 
to-night,  and  I'll  try  and  arrange  it." 

I  was  still  very  weak  and  unable  for  any  fatigue  as  I 
accompanied  the  marshal  to  the  quaint  old  palace  which,  at 
about  a  league  from  the  capital,  formed  the  headquarters  of 
the  Emperor.  Up  to  this  time  I  had  never  been  presented 
to  Napoleon,  and  had  formed  to  myself  the  most  gorgeous 
notions  of  the  state  and  splendor  that  should  surround  such 
majesty.  Guess  then  my  astonishment,  and,  need  I  own, 
disappointment,  as  we  drove  up  a  straight  avenue  very  spar- 
ingly lighted,  and  descended  at  a  large  door,  where  a  lieu- 
tenant's guard  was  stationed.  It  was  customary  for  the 
marshals  and  generals  of  division  to  present  themselves  each 
evening   at   Schonbrunn  from  six  to  nine  o'clock,  and  we 


528  ]\IAURICE  TIERNAY. 

found  that  eight  or  ten  carriages  were  already  in  waiting 
when  we  arrived.  An  officer  of  the  household  recognized  the 
marshal  as  he  alighted,  and  as  we  mounted  the  staii's  whis- 
pered a  few  words  hurriedly  in  his  ear,  of  which  I  only 
caugh  one,  "  Komorn,"  —  the  name  of  the  Hungarian  fortress 
on  the  Danube  where  the  imperial  family  of  Vienna  and  the 
cabinet  had  sought  refuge. 

"  Diantre! "  exclaimed  Marmont,  "  bad  news  !  My  dear 
Tiernay,  we  have  fallen  on  an  unlucky  moment  to  ask  a 
favor.  The  despatches  from  Komorn  are,  it  would  seem, 
unsatisfactory.  The  Tyrol  is  far  from  quiet.  Kuffstein  — 
I  think  that 's  the  name,  or  some  such  place  —  is  attacked 
by  a  large  force,  and  likely  to  fall  into  their  hands  from 
assault." 

"That  can  scarcely  be,  sir,"  said  I,  interrupting;  "I 
know  Kuffstein  well.  I  was  two  years  a  prisoner  there ; 
and,  except  by  famine,  the  fortress  is  inaccessible." 

"What!  are  you  certain  of  this?"  cried  he,  eagerly; 
"is  there  not  one  side  on  w^hich  escalade  is  possible?" 

"  Quite  impracticable  on  every  quarter,  believe  me,  sii'. 
A  hundred  men  of  the  line  and  twenty  gunners  might  hold 
Kuffstein  against  the  world." 

"You  hear  what  he  says,  Lefebre?"  said  Marmont  to 
the  officer.  "  I  think  I  might  venture  to  bring  him  up." 
The  other  shook  his  head  doubtfully,  and  said  nothing. 
"Well,  announce  me  then,"  said  the  marshal;  "and.  Tier- 
nay,  do  you  throw  yourself  on  one  of  those  sofas  there,  and 
wait  for  me." 

I  did  as  I  was  bade,  and  partly  from  the  unusual  fatigue 
and  in  part  from  the  warmth  of  a  summer  evening  soon  fell 
off  into  a  heavy  sleep.  I  was  suddenly  awoke  by  a  voice 
saying,  "Come  along.  Captain,  be  quick!  your  name  has 
been  called  twice !  "  I  sprung  up  and  looked  about  me, 
without  the  very  vaguest  notion  of  where  I  was.  "Where 
to?  Where  am  I  going?"  asked  I,  in  my  confusion. 
"Follow  that  gentleman,"  was  the  brief  reply;  and  so  I 
did  in  the  same  dreamy  state  that  a  sleep-walker  might  have 
done. 

Some  confused  impression  that  I  was  in  attendance  on 
General  Marmont  was  all  that  I  could  collect,  when  I  found 


"SCHONBRUNN"  IN  1809.  529 

myself  standing  in  a  great  room  densely  crowded  with  offi- 
cers of  rank.  Though  gathered  in  groups  and  knots  chat- 
ting, there  was  from  time  to  time  a  sort  of  movement  in  the 
mass  that  seemed  communicated  by  some  single  impulse ; 
and  then  all  would  remain  watchful  and  attentive  for  some 
seconds,  their  eyes  tui-ned  in  the  direction  of  a  large  door  at 
the  end  of  the  apartment.  At  last  this  was  thi'own  suddenly 
open,  and  a  number  of  persons  entered,  at  w^hose  appear- 
ance every  tongue  Avas  hushed  and  the  very  slightest  gesture 
subdued.  The  crowd  meanwhile  fell  back,  forming  a  species 
of  circle  round  the  room,  in  front  of  which  this  newly- 
entered  group  walked.  I  cannot  now  remember  what  strug- 
gling efforts  I  made  to  collect  my  faculties,  and  think  where 
I  was  then  standing ;  but  if  a  thunderbolt  had  struck  the 
ground  before  me,  it  could  not  have  given  me  a  more  terrific 
shock  than  that  I  felt  on  seeing  the  Emperor  himself  address 
the  general  officer  beside  me. 

I  cannot  pretend  to  have  enjoyed  many  opportunities  of 
royal  notice ;  at  the  time  I  speak  of,  such  distinction  was 
altogether  unknown  to  me.  But  even  when  most  highly 
favored  in  that  respect,  I  have  never  been  able  to  divest 
myself  of  a  most  crushing  feeling  of  my  inferiority,  —  a 
sense  at  once  so  humiliating  and  painful  that  I  longed  to  be 
away  and  out  of  a  presence  where  I  might  dare  to  look  at 
him  who  addressed  me,  and  venture  on  something  beyond 
mere  replies  to  interrogatories.  This  situation,  good  reader, 
with  all  your  courtly  breeding  and  aplomb  to  boot,  is  never 
totally  free  of  constraint ;  but  imagine  what  it  can  be  when, 
instead  of  standing  in  the  faint  sunshine  of  a  royal  smile, 
you  find  yourself  cowering  under  the  stern  and  relentless 
look  of  anger,  and  that  anger  an  Emperor's ! 

This  was  precisely  my  predicament ;  for  in  my  confusion 
I  had  not  noticed  how,  as  the  Emperor  drew  near  to  any 
Individual  to  converse,  the  others  at  either  side  immediately 
retired  out  of  hearing,  preserving  an  air  of  obedient  atten- 
tion, but  without  in  any  way  obtruding  themselves  on  the 
royal  notice.  The  consequence  was,  that,  as  his  Majesty 
stood  to  talk  with  Marshal  Oudinot,  I  maintained  my  place, 
never  perceiving  my  awkwardness  till  I  saw  that  I  made  one 
of  three  figures  isolated  in  the  floor  of  the  chamber.     To  say 

34 


530  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

that  I  had  rather  have  stood  in  face  of  an  enemy's  battery 
is  no  exaggeration;  I'd  have  walked  up  to  a  gun  with  a 
stouter  heart  than  I  felt  at  this  terrible  moment,  —  and  yet 
there  was  something  in  that  sidelong  glance  of  angry  mean- 
ing that  actually  nailed  me  to  the  spot,  and  I  could  not  have 
fallen  back  to  save  my  life.  There  were,  I  afterwards 
learned,  no  end  of  signals  and  telegraphic  notices  to  me 
from  the  officers  in  waiting;  gestures  and  indications  for 
m}^  guidance  abounded,  — but  I  saw  none  of  them.  I  had 
drawn  myself  up  in  an  attitude  of  parade  stiffness,  neither 
looked  right  nor  left,  and  waited  as  a  criminal  might  have 
waited  for  the  fall  of  the  axe  that  was  to  end  his  suft'eriugs 
forever. 

That  the  Emperor  remained  something  like  two  hours  and 
a  half  in  conversation  with  the  marshal  I  should  have  been 
quite  ready  to  verify  on  oath ;  but  the  simple  fact  was  that 
the  interview  occupied  under  four  minutes  ;  and  then  Gene- 
ral Oudinot  backed  out  of  the  presence,  leaving  me  alone  in 
front  of  his  Majesty. 

The  silence  of  the  chamber  was  quite  dreadful,  as,  with  his 
hands  clasped  behind  his  back  and  his  head  slightly  thrown 
forward,  the  Emperor  stared  steadily  at  me.  I  am  more 
than  half  ashamed  of  the  confession  ;  but  what  between  the 
effect  of  long  illness  and  suffering,  the  length  of  time  I  had 
been  standing,  and  the  emotion  I  experienced,  I  felt  myself 
growing  dizzy,  and  a  sickly  faintness  began  to  creep  over 
me,  and  but  for  the  support  of  my  sabre  I  should  actually 
have  fallen. 

"You  seem  weak;  you  had  better  sit  down,"  said  the 
Emperor,   in  a  soft  and  mild  voice. 

"  Yes,  Sire,  I  have  not  quite  recovered  yet,"  muttered  I,  in- 
distinctly ;  but  before  I  could  well  finish  the  sentence  Mar- 
montwas  beside  the  Emperor,  and  speaking  rapidly  to  him. 

"  Ah,  indeed !  "  cried  Napoleon,  tapping  his  snuff-box  and 
smiling.  "  This  is  Tiernay,  then.  Parhleu  !  we  have  heard 
something  of  yow  before." 

Marmont  still  continued  to  talk  on ;  and  I  heard  the 
words  "Rhine,"  "Genoa,"  and  "Kuffstein"  distinctly  fall 
from  him.  The  Emperor  smiled  twice,  and  nodded  his  head 
slowly,  as  if  assenting  to  what  was  said. 


"SCHONBRUXN"   IN   1809.  531 

"But  his  wound?  "  said  Napoleon,  doubtingly. 

''  He  says  that  your  Majesty  cured  him  when  the  doctor 
despaired,"  said  Marmont.  "I'm  sure,  Sire,  he  has  equal 
faith  in  what  you  still  could  do  for  him." 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  Emperor,  addressing  me,  "  if  all  I 
hear  of  you  be  correct,  you  carry  a  stouter  heart  before  the 
enemy  than  you  seem  to  wear  here.  Your  name  is  high  in 
Marshal  Massena's  list;  and  General  Marmont  desires  to 
have  your  services  on  his  staff.  I  make  no  objection ;  you 
shall  have  your  grade." 

I  bowed  without  speaking;  indeed,  I  could  not  have 
uttered  a  word  even  if  it  had  been  my  duty. 

"They  have  extracted  the  ball,  I  hope?"  said  the  Em- 
peror to  me,   and  pointing  to  my  thigh. 

"  It  never  lodged.  Sire ;  it  was  a  round  shot,"  said  I. 

'■'•  Dlahle!  a  round  shot!  You're  a  lucky  fellow.  Colonel 
Tiernay,"  said  he,  laying  a  stress  on  the  title,  "  a  very  lucky 
fellow." 

"I  shall  ever  think  so,  Sire,  since  your  Majesty  has  said 
it,"   was  my  answer. 

"  I  was  not  a  lieutenant-colonel  at  your  age,"  resumed 
Napoleon;  "nor were  you  either,  Marmont.  You  see,  sir, 
that  we  live  in  better  times ;  at  least,  in  times  when  merit  is 
better  rewarded." 

And  with  this  he  passed  on ;  and  Marmont,  slipping  my 
arm  within  his  own,  led  me  away,  down  the  great  stair, 
through  crowds  of  attendant  orderlies  and  groups  of  servants. 
At  last  we  reached  our  carriage,  and  in  half  an  hour  re- 
entered Vienna,  my  heart  wild  with  excitement,  and  burning 
with  zealous  ardor  to  do  something  for  the  service  of  the 
Emperor. 

The  next  morning  I  removed  to  General  Marmont's  quar- 
ters, and  for  the  first  time  put  on  the  golden  aigrette  of  chef 
d'etat-major,  not  a  little  to  the  astonishment  of  all  who  saw 
the  "boy  colonel,"  as,  half  in  sarcasm  half  in  praise,  they 
styled  me.  From  an  early  hour  of  the  morning  till  the  time 
of  a  late  dinner,  I  was  incessantly  occupied.  The  staff 
duties  were  excessively  severe,  and  the  number  of  letters  to 
be  read  and  replied  to  almost  beyond  belief.  The  war  had 
again  assumed  something  of  importance  in  the  Tyrol.    Hofer 


532  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

and  Spechbacher  were  at  the  head  of  considerable  forces, 
which  in  the  fastnesses  of  their  native  mountains  were  more 
than  a  match  for  any  regular  soldiery.  The  news  from 
Spain  was  gloomy :  England  was  already  threatening  her 
long-planned  attack  on  the  Scheldt.  Whatever  real  impor- 
tance might  attach  to  these  movements,  the  Austrian  cabinet 
made  them  the  pretext  for  demanding  more  favorable  con- 
ditions ;  and  Metternich  was  emboldened  to  go  so  far  as  to 
ask  for  the  restoration  of  the  empire  in  all  its  former 
integrity. 

These  negotiations  between  the  two  cabinets  at  the  time 
assumed  the  most  singular  form  which  probably  was  ever 
adopted  in  such  intercourse,  —  all  the  disagreeable  intelli- 
gences and  disastrous  tidings  being  communicated  from  one 
side  to  the  other,  with  the  mock  politeness  of  friendly  rela- 
tions. As,  for  instance,  the  Austrian  cabinet  would  forward 
an  extract  from  one  of  Hofer's  descriptions  of  a  victory ;  to 
which  the  French  would  reply  by  a  bulletin  of  Eugene 
Beauharnois,  or,  as  Napoleon  on  one  occasion  did,  by  a 
copy  of  a  letter  from  the  Emperor  Alexander,  filled  with 
expressions  of  friendship  and  professing  the  most  perfect 
confidence  in  his  "  brother  of  France."  So  far  was  this 
petty  and  most  contemptible  warfare  carried,  that  every 
little  gossip  and  every  passing  story  was  pressed  into  the 
sei'^'ice,  and  if  not  directly  addressed  to  the  cabinet,  at  least 
conveyed  to  its  knowledge  by  some  indirect  channel. 

It  is  probable  I  should  have  forgotten  this  curious  feature 
of  the  time,  if  not  impressed  on  my  memory  by  personal 
circumstances  too  important  to  be  easily  obliterated  from 
memory.  An  Austrian  officer  arrived  one  morning  from 
Komorn,  with  an  account  of  the  defeat  of  Lefebre's  force 
before  Schenatz,  and  of  a  great  victory  gained  by  Hofer  and 
Spechbacher  over  the  French  and  Bavarians.  Two  thousand 
prisoners  were  said  to  have  been  taken,  and  the  French 
driven  across  the  Inn  and  in  full  retreat  on  Kuffstein.  Now, 
as  I  had  been  confined  at  Kuffstein,  and  could  speak  of  its 
impregnable  character  from  actual  observation,  I  was  imme- 
diately sent  off  with  despatches  about  some  indifferent 
matter  to  the  cabinet,  with  injunctions  to  speak  freel}^  about 
the  fortress,  and  declare  that  we  were  perfectly  confident  of 


"SCHONBRUXN"   IX   1809.  533 

its  security.  I  may  mention  incidentally,  and  as  showing 
the  real  character  of  my  mission,  that  a  secret  despatch  from 
Lefebre  had  already  reached  Vienna,  in  which  he  declared 
that  he  should  be  compelled  to  evacuate  the  Tyrol  and  fall 
back  into  Bavaria. 

"I  have  provided  you  with  introductions  that  will  secure 
your  friendly  reception,"  said  Marmont  to  me.  "The 
replies  to  these  despatches  will  require  some  da^^s,  durini^ 
which  you  will  have  time  to  make  many  acquaintances 
about  the  court,  and  if  practicable  to  effect  a  very  delicate 
object." 

This,  after  considerable  injunctions  as  to  secrecy  and  so 
forth,  was  no  less  than  to  obtain  a  miniature,  or  a  copy  of 
a  miniature,  of  the  j'Ouug  archduchess,  who  had  been  so 
dangerously  ill  during  the  siege  of  Vienna,  and  whom  report 
represented  as  exceedingly  handsome,  A  good-looking 
young  fellow,  a  colonel  of  two  or  three  and  twenty,  with 
unlimited  bribery,  if  needed,  at  command,  should  find  little 
difficulty  in  the  mission,  —  at  least,  so  Marmont  assured  me  ; 
and  from  his  enthusiasm  on  the  subject  I  saw,  or  fancied  I 
saw,  that  he  would  have  had  no  objection  to  be  employed  in 
the  service  himself.  For  while  professing  how  absurd  it  was 
to  offer  any  advice  or  suggestion  on  such  a  subject  to  one 
like  myself,  he  entered  into  details,  and  sketched  out  a  plan 
of  campaign  that  might  well  have  made  a  chapter  of  "  Gil 
Bias."  It  would  possibly  happen,  he  reminded  me,  that  the 
Austrian  court  would  grow  suspectf  ul  of  me,  and  not  exactly 
feel  at  ease  were  my  stay  prolonged  beyond  a  day  or  two, 
—  in  which  case  it  was  left  entirely  to  my  ingenuity  to 
devise  reasons  for  my  remaining ;  and  I  was  at  liberty  to 
despatch  couriers  for  instructions,  and  await  replies,  to  any 
extent  I  thought  requisite.  In  fact,  I  had  a  species  of 
general  commission  to  press  into  the  senice  whatever  re- 
sources could  forward  the  object  of  my  mission,  success 
being  the  only  point  not  to  be  dispensed  with. 

''Take  a  week,  if  you  like,  —  a  month,  if  you  must, 
Tiernay,"  said  he  to  me  at  parting;  "but,  above  all,  no 
failure  !  mind  that  —  no  failure !  " 


CHAPTER   LII. 

"  KOMORN    FORTY    YEARS    AGO." 

I  DOUBT  if  our  great  Emperor  dated  his  first  despatch  from 
Sehonbrunn  with  a  prouder  sense  of  elevation  than  did  I 
write  "Komorn"  at  the  top  of  my  first  letter  to  Marshal 
Marmont,  detailing,  as  I  had  been  directed,  every  incident 
of  my  reception.  I  will  not  pretend  to  say  that  my  com- 
munication might  be  regarded  as  a  model  for  diplomatic 
correspondence ;  but  having  since  that  period  seen  some- 
thing of  the  lucubrations  of  great  envoys  and  plenipos,  I  am 
only  astonished  at  my  unconscious  imitation  of  their  style, 
—  blending,  as  I  did,  the  objects  of  my  mission  with  every 
little  personal  incident,  and  making  each  trivial  circumstance 
bear  upon  the  fortune  of  my  embassy. 

I  narrated  my  morning  interview  with  Prince  Metternich, 
whose  courteous  but  haughty  politeness  was  not  a  whit 
shaken  by  the  calamitous  position  of  his  country,  and  who 
wished  to  treat  the  great  events  of  the  campaign  as  among 
the  transient  reverses  which  war  deals  out,  —  on  this  side  to- 
day, on  that  to-morrow.  I  told  that  my  confidence  in  the 
impregnable  character  of  Kuff stein  only  raised  a  smile,  for  it 
had  already  been  surrendered  to  the  Tyrolese  ;  and  I  summed 
up  my  political  conjectui-es  by  suggesting  that  there  was 
enough  of  calm  confidence  in  the  minister's  manner  to  induce 
me  to  suspect  that  they  were  calculating  on  the  support  of 
the  northern  powers,  and  had  not  given  up  the  cause  for  lost. 
I  knew  for  certain  that  a  Russian  courier  had  arrived  and 
departed  since  my  own  coming ;  and  although  the  greatest 
secrecy  had  attended  the  event,  I  ascertained  the  fact  that 
he  had  come  from  St.  Petersburg  and  was  returning  to 
Moscow,  where  the  Emperor  Alexander  then  was.  Perhaps 
I  was  a  little  piqued,  I  am  afraid  I  was,  at  the  indifference 


"KOMORN  FORTY  YEARS  AGO."        535 

manifested  at  my  own  presence,  and  the  little,  or  indeed  no, 
importance  attached  to  my  prolonged  stay ;  for  when  I  in- 
formed Count  Stadion  that  I  should  await  some  tidings  from 
Vienna  before  returning  thither,  he  very  politely  expressed 
his  pleasure  at  the  prospect  of  my  company,  and  proposed 
that  we  should  have  some  partridge  shooting,  for  which  the 
country  along  the  Danube  is  famous.  The  younger  brother 
of  this  minister,  Count  Ernest  Stadion,  and  a  young  Hunga- 
rian magnate,  Palakzi,  were  my  constant  companions.  They 
were  both  about  my  own  age,  but  had  only  joined  the  army 
that  same  spring,  and  were  most  devoted  admirers  of  one 
who  had  already  won  his  epaulettes  as  a  colonel  in  the 
French  service.  They  showed  me  every  object  of  interest 
and  curiosity  in  the  neighborhood,  arranged  parties  for 
riding  and  shooting,  and  in  fact  treated  me  in  all  respects 
like  a  much  valued  guest,  —  well  repaid,  as  it  seemed,  by 
those  stories  of  war  and  battle-fields  which  my  own  life  and 
memory  supplied. 

My  improved  health  was  already  noticed  by  all,  when 
Metternich  sent  me  a  most  polite  message,  stating  that  if 
my  services  at  Vienna  could  be  dispensed  with  for  a  while 
longer,  it  was  hoped  I  would  continue  to  reside  where  I  had 
derived  such  benefit,  and  breathe  the  cheering  breezes  of 
Hungary  for  the  remainder  of  the  autumn. 

It  was  full  eight-and-twenty  years  later  that  I  accidentally 
learned  to  what  curious  circumstance  I  owed  this  invitation. 
It  chanced  that  the  young  archduchess,  who  was  ill  during 
the  siege,  was  lingering  in  a  slow  convalescence ;  and  to 
amuse  the  tedious  hours  of  her  sick  couch,  Madame  Palakzi, 
the  mother  of  my  young  friend,  was  accustomed  to  recount 
some  of  the  stories  which  I,  in  the  course  of  the  morning, 
happened  to  relate  to  her  son.  So  guardedly  was  all  this 
contrived  and  carried  on  that  it  was  not,  as  I  have  said,  for 
nearly  thirty  years  after  that  I  knew  of  it;  and  then  the 
secret  was  told  me  by  the  chief  personage  herself,  the  Grand 
Duchess  of  Parma. 

Though  nothing  could  better  have  chimed  in  with  my  plans 
than  this  request,  yet  in  reality  the  secret  object  of  my 
mission  appeared  just  as  remote  as  on  the  first  day  of  my 
arrival.     My  acquaintances  were  limited  to  some  half-dozen 


536  :\rAURiCE  tierxay. 

gentlemen  in  waiting,  and  about  an  equal  number  of  young 
officers  of  the  staff,  with  whom  I  dined,  rode,  hunted,  and 
shot,  —  never  seeing  a  single  member  of  the  imperial  f amil}^ 
nor,  stranger  still,  one  lady  of  the  household.  In  what 
Turkish  seclusion  they  lived  !  when  they  ventui'ed  out  for  air 
and  exercise,  and  where,  were  questions  that  never  ceased  to 
torture  me.  It  was  true  that  all  my  own  excm-sious  had 
been  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  towards  which  side  the 
apartment  I  occupied  looked ;  but  I  could  scarcely  suppose 
that  the  right  presented  much  attraction,  since  it  appeared 
to  be  an  impenetrable  forest  of  oak,  besides  that  the  bridge 
which  formerly  connected  it  with  the  island  of  Komoru  had 
been  cut  off  during  the  war.  Of  course,  this  was  a  theme 
on  which  I  could  not  dare  to  touch ;  and  as  the  reserve  of 
my  companions  was  never  broken  regarding  it,  I  was  obliged 
to  be  satisfied  with  my  own  guesses  on  the  subject. 

I  had  been  about  two  months  at  Komorn  when  I  was  in- 
vited to  join  a  shooting  party  on  the  north  bank  of  the  river 
at  a  place  called  Ercacs,  — or,  as  the  Hungarians  pronounce 
it,  Ercacsh,  —  celebrated  for  the  black  cock,  or  the  auerhahn, 
one  of  the  finest  birds  of  the  east  of  Europe.  AU  my  com- 
panions had  been  promising  me  great  things  when  the  season 
for  the  sport  should  begin,  and  I  was  equally  anxious  to  dis- 
play my  skill  as  a  marksman.  The  scenery,  too,  was  repre- 
sented as  surpassingly  fine,  and  I  looked  foi-ward  to  the 
expedition,  which  was  to  occupy  a  week,  with  much  interest. 

One  circumstance  alone  damped  the  ardor  of  my  enjoy- 
ment :  for  some  time  back  exercise  on  horseback  had  become 
painful  to  me,  and  some  of  those  evil  consequences  which  my 
doctor  had  speculated  on,  such  as  exfoliation  of  the  bone, 
seemed  now  thi-eatening  me.  Up  to  this  the  inconvenience 
had  gone  no  further  than  an  occasional  sharp  pang  after  a 
hard  day's  ride,  or  a  dull  uneasy  feeling  which  prevented  my 
sleeping  soundly  at  night.  I  hoped,  however,  by  time,  that 
these  would  subside,  and  the  natural  strength  of  my  consti- 
tution carry  me  safely  over  every  mischance.  I  was  ashamed 
to  speak  of  these  sj^mptoms  to  my  companions,  lest  they 
should  imagine  that  I  was  onh'  screening  myself  from  the 
fatigues  of  which  they  so  freely  partook  ;  and  so  I  continued, 
day  after   day,   the    same    habit    of    severe   exercise,   while 


"KOMORN  FORTY  YEARS  AGO."        537 

feverish  nights  and  a  failing  appetite  made  nie  hourly  weaker. 
My  spirits  never  flagged,  and  perhaps  in  this  way  damaged 
me  seriously,  supplying  a  false  energy  long  after  real  strength 
had  begun  to  give  way.  The  w^orld,  indeed,  "  went  so  well " 
with  me  in  all  other  respects  that  I  felt  it  would  have  been  the 
blackest  ingratitude  against  Fortune  to  have  given  way  to 
anything  like  discontent  or  repining.  It  was  true  I  was  far 
from  being  a  solitary  instance  of  a  colonel  at  my  age,  — 
there  were  several  such  in  the  army,  and  one  or  two  even 
younger ;  but  they  were  unexceptionally  men  of  family  influ- 
ence, descendants  of  the  ancient  nobility  of  France,  for 
whose  chivalric  names  and  titles  the  Emperor  had  conceived 
the  greatest  respect ;  and  never  in  all  the  pomp  of  Louis  the 
Fomteenth's  court  were  a  Gramont,  a  Guise,  a  Rochefoucauld, 
or  a  Tavanne  more  certain  of  his  favorable  notice.  Now,  I 
was  utterly  devoid  of  all  such  pretensions ;  my  claims  to 
gentle  blood,  such  as  they  were,  derived  from  another  land, 
and  I  might  even  regard  myself  as  the  maker  of  my  own 
fortune. 

How  little  thought  did  I  bestow  on  my  wound,  as  I 
mounted  my  horse  on  that  mellow  day  of  autumn  !  How  in- 
different was  I  to  the  pang  that  shot  through  me  as  I  touched 
the  flank  with  my  leg !  Our  road  led  through  a  thick  forest, 
but  over  a  surface  of  level  sward,  along  which  we  galloped 
in  all  the  buoyancy  of  youth  and  high  spirits.  An  occasional 
trunk  lay  across  our  way,  and  these  we  cleared  at  a  leap,  — 
a  feat  which  I  well  saw  my  Hungarian  friends  were  some- 
what surprised  to  perceive  gave  me  no  trouble  whatever. 
My  old  habits  of  the  riding-school  had  made  me  a  perfect 
horseman ;  and,  rather  vain  of  my  accomplishment,  I  rode 
at  the  highest  fences  I  could  find.  In  one  of  these  exploits 
an  acute  pang  shot  through  me,  and  I  felt  as  if  something 
had  given  way  in  my  leg.  The  pain  for  some  minutes  was 
so  intense  that  I  could  with  difficulty  keep  the  saddle,  and 
even  when  it  had  partially  subsided  the  suffering  was  very 
great. 

To  continue  my  journey  in  this  agony  was  impossible; 
and  yet  I  was  reluctant  to  confess  that  I  was  overcome  by 
pain.  Such  an  acknowledgment  seemed  unsoldierlike  and 
unworthy,  and  I  determined  not  to  give  way.  It  was  no 
use, the  suffering  brought  on  a  sickly  faintness  that  com- 


538  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

pletely  overcame  me.  I  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  turn  back ; 
60,  suddenly  affecting  to  recollect  a  despatch  that  I  ought  to 
have  sent  off  before  I  left,  I  hastily  apologized  to  my  com- 
panions, and  with  many  promises  to  overtake  them  by  even- 
ing I  returned  to  Komorn. 

A  Magyar  groom  accompanied  me  to  act  as  my  guide ; 
and  attended  b}^  this  man,  I  slowl}^  retraced  my  steps  towards 
the  fortress,  —  so  slowly,  indeed,  that  it  was  within  an  hour 
of  sunset  as  we  gained  the  crest  of  the  little  ridge,  from 
which  Komorn  might  be  seen,  and  the  course  of  the  Danube 
as  it  wound  for  miles  through  the  plain. 

It  is  always  a  grand  and  imposing  scene,  one  of  those  vast 
Hungarian  plains,  with  waving  woods  and  golden  cornfields, 
bounded  by  the  horizon  on  every  side,  and  marked  by  those 
immense  villages  of  twelve  or  even  twenty  thousand  inhabi- 
tants. Trees,  rivers,  plains,  even  the  dwellings  of  the 
people,  are  on  a  scale  with  which  nothing  in  the  Old  AYorld 
can  vie.  But  even  with  this  great  landscape  before  me,  I 
was  more  struck  by  a  small  object  which  caught  my  eye  as  I 
looked  towards  the  fortress.  It  was  a  little  boat,  covered 
with  an  awning  and  anchored  in  the  middle  of  the  stream, 
and  from  which  I  could  hear  the  sound  of  a  voice  singing  to 
the  accompaniment  of  a  guitar.  There  was  a  stern  and 
solemn  quietude  in  the  scene ;  the  dark  fortress,  the  darker 
river,  the  deep  woods  casting  their  shadows  on  the  water,  all 
presented  a  strange  contrast  to  that  girlish  voice  and  tinkling 
melody,  so  light-hearted  and  so  free. 

The  Magyar  seemed  to  read  what  was  passing  in  my  mind, 
for  he  nodded  significantly,  and,  touching  his  cap  in  token 
of  respect,  said  it  was  the  young  Archduchess  Maria  Louisa, 
who  with  one  or  two  of  her  ladies  enjoyed  the  cool  of  the 
evening  on  the  river.  This  was  the  very  same  princess  for 
whose  likeness  I  was  so  eager,  and  of  whom  I  never  could 
obtain  the  slightest  tidings.  With  what  an  interest  that  bark 
became  invested  from  that  moment !  I  had  more  than  sus- 
pected, I  had  divined,  the  reasons  of  General  Marmont's 
commission  to  me,  and  could  picture  to  myself  the  great 
destiny  that  in  all  likelihood  awaited  her  who  now  in  sickly 
dalliance  moved  her  hand  in  the  stream,  and  scattered  tlie 
sparkling  drops  in  merry  mood  over  her  companions.  Twice 
or  thrice  a  head  of  light-brown  hair  peeped  from  beneath 


"KOMORN  FORTY  YEARS  AGO."        539 

the  folds  of  the  awning,  and  I  wondered  within  mj^self  if  it 
were  on  that  same  brow  that  the  greatest  diadem  of  Europe 
was  to  sit. 

So  intent  was  I  on  these  fancies,  so  full  of  the  thousand 
speculations  that  grew  out  of  them,  that  I  paid  no  attention 
to  what  was  passing,  and  never  noticed  an  object  on  which 
the  Hungarian's  eyes  were  bent  in  earnest  contemplation.  A 
quick  gesture  and  a  sudden  exclamation  from  the  man  soon 
attracted  me,  and  I  beheld,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  an 
enormous  timber-raft  descending  the  stream  at  headlong 
speed.  That  the  great  mass  had  become  unmanageable,  and 
was  carried  along  •  by  the  impetuosity  of  the  current,  was 
plain  enough,  not  only  from  the  zig-zag  course  it  took,  but 
from  the  wild  cries  and  frantic  gestures  of  the  men  on  board. 
Though  visible  to  us  from  the  eminence  on  which  we  stood, 
a  bend  of  the  stream  still  concealed  it  from  those  in  the  boat. 
To  apprise  them  of  their  danger,  we  shouted  with  all  our 
might,  gesticulating  at  the  same  time,  and  motioning  to  them 
to  put  in  to  shore.  It  was  all  in  vain ;  the  roar  of  the  river, 
which  here  is  almost  a  torrent,  drowned  our  voices,  and  the 
little  boat  still  held  her  place  in  the  middle  of  the  stream. 
Already  the  huge  mass  was  to  be  seen  emerging  from  behind 
a  wooded  promontory  of  the  river  side,  and  now  then-  de- 
struction seemed  inevitable. 

Without  waiting  to  reach  the  path,  I  spurred  my  horse 
down  the  steep  descent,  and  half  falling  and  half  plunging 
gained  the  bank.  To  all  seeming  now  they  heard  me,  for 
I  saw  the  curtain  of  the  awning  suddenly  move,  and  a  boat- 
man's red  cap  peer  from  beneath  it.  I  screamed  and  shouted 
with  all  my  might,  and  called  out,  "The  raft!  the  raft!" 
till  my  throat  felt  bursting.  For  some  seconds  the  progress 
of  the  great  mass  seemed  delaj^ed,  probably  by  having 
become  entangled  with  the  trees  along  the  shore ;  but  now, 
borne  along  by  its  immense  weight,  it  swung  round  the 
angle  of  the  bank,  and  came  majestically  on,  —  a  long, 
white  wave  marking  its  course  as  it  breasted  the  water. 

They  see  it !  they  see  it !  Oh,  good  heavens !  are  they 
paralyzed  with  terror,  for  the  boatman  never  moves !  A 
wild  shriek  rises  above  the  roar  of  the  current,  and  yet  they 
do  nothing.  AThat  prayers  and  cries  of  entreaty,  what  wild 
imprecations  I  uttered,  I  know  not ;  but   I   am   sure   that 


540  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

reason  had  already  left  me,  and  nothing  remained  in  its 
place  except  the  mad  impulse  to  save  them,  or  perish. 
There  was  then  so  much  of  calculation  in  my  mind  that  I 
could  balance  the  chances  of  breasting  the  stream  on  horse- 
back or  alone,  —  and  this  done,  I  spurred  my  animal  over 
the  bank  into  the  Danube.  A  horse  is  a  noble  swimmer 
when  he  has  courage,  and  a  Hungarian  horse  rarely  fails  in 
this  quality.  Heading  towards  the  opposite  shore,  the  gal- 
lant beast  cleared  his  track  through  the  strong  ciuTent, 
snorting  madly,  and  seeming  to  plunge  at  times  against  the 
rushing  waters. 

I  never  turned  my  eyes  from  the  skiff  all  this  time,  and 
now  could  see  the  reason  of  what  had  seemed  their  apathy. 
The  anchor  had  become  entangled,  fouled  among  some 
rocks  or  weeds  of  the  river,  and  the  boatman's  efforts  to  lift 
it  were  all  in  vain.  I  screamed  and  yelled  to  the  man  to 
cut  the  rope ;  but  my  cries  were  unheard,  for  he  bent  over 
the  gunwale,  and  tugged  and  tore  with  all  his  might.  I  was 
more  than  fifty  yards  higher  up  the  stream,  and  rapidly 
gaining  the  calmer  water  under  shore,  when  I  tried  to  turn 
my  horse's  head  down  the  current ;  but  the  instinct  of  safety 
rebelled  against  all  control,  and  the  animal  made  straight  for 
the  bank.  There  was  then  but  one  chance  left,  and  taking 
my  sabre  in  my  mouth  I  sprang  from  his  back  into  the 
stream.  In  all  the  terrible  excitement  of  that  dreadful 
moment  I  clung  to  one  firm  purpose.  The  current  would 
surely  carry  the  boat  into  safety  if  once  free  :  I  had  no  room 
for  any  thought  but  this.  The  great  trees  along  shore,  the 
great  fortress,  the  very  clouds  overhead,  seemed  to  fly  past 
me  as  I  was  swept  along ;  but  I  never  lost  sight  of  my  pur- 
pose ;  and  now,  almost  within  my  grasp,  I  see  the  boat  and 
the  three  figures,  who  are  bending  down  over  one  that  seems 
to  have  fainted.  With  my  last  effort,  I  cry  again  to  cut  the 
rope  ;  but  his  knife  has  broken  at  the  handle  !  I  touch  the 
side  of  the  skiff,  I  grasp  the  gunwale  with  one  hand,  and 
seizing  my  sabre  in  the  other  I  make  one  desperate  cut. 
The  boat  swings  round  to  the  current,  the  boatman's  oars 
are  out,  —  they  are  saved  !  My  "  Thank  God  "  is  like  the 
cry  of  a  drowning  man,  —  for  I  know  no  more. 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

A    LOSS    AND    A    GAIN. 

To  apologize  to  my  reader  for  not  strictly  tracing  out  each 
day  of  my  history  would  be  in  all  likelihood  as  great  an 
impertinence  as  that  of  the  tu'esome  guest,  who,  having  kept 
you  two  houi-s  from  your  bed  by  his  uninteresting  twaddle, 
asks  you  to  forgive  him  at  last  for  an  abrupt  departure.  I 
am  akeady  too  full  of  gratitude  for  the  patience  that  has  been 
conceded  to  me  so  far,  to  desire  to  trifle  with  it  during  the 
brief  space  that  is  now  to  link  us  together.  And  believe  me, 
kind  reader,  there  is  more  in  that  same  tie  than  perhaps  you 
think,  especially  where  the  intercourse  has  been  carried  on, 
and  as  it  were  fed,  from  month  to  month.  In  such  cases 
the  relationship  between  him  who  writes  and  him  who  reads 
assumes  something  like  acquaintanceship,  heightened  by  a 
greater  desire  on  one  side  to  please  than  is  usually  felt  in 
the  routine  business  of  every-day  life.  Nor  is  it  a  light 
reward  if  one  can  think  that  he  has  relieved  a  passing  hour 
of  solitude  or  discomfort,  shortened  a  long  wintry  night,  or 
made  a  rainy  day  more  endurable.  I  speak  not  here  of  the 
greater  happiness  in  knowing  that  our  inmost  thoughts  have 
found  their  echo  in  far-away  hearts,  kindling  noble  emotions 
and  warming  generous  aspirations,  teaching  courage  and 
hope  by  the  very  commonest  of  lessons,  and  showing  that 
in  the  moral  as  in  the  vegetable  world  the  bane  and  antidote 
grow  side  by  side ;  and,  as  the  Eastern  poet  has  it,  "  He  who 
shakes  the  tree  of  sorrow  is  often  sowing  the  seeds  of  joy." 
Such  are  the  triumphs  of  very  different  efforts  from  mine, 
however,  and  I  come  back  to  the  humble  theme  from  which 
I  started. 

If  I  do  not  chronicle  the  incidents  which  succeeded  to  the 
events  of  my  last  chapter,  it  is,  in  the   first  place,  because 


542  MAUEICE   TIERNAY. 

they  are  most  imperfectly  impressed  upon  my  own  memory ; 
and,  in  the  second,  they  are  of  a  nature  which,  whether  in  the 
hearing  or  the  telling,  can  afford  little  pleasure.  For  what  if 
I  should  enlarge  upon  a  text  which  runs  but  on  suffering  and 
sickness,  nights  of  feverish  agony,  days  of  anguish,  terrible 
alternations  of  hope  and  fear,  ending  at  last  in  the  sad,  sad 
certainty  that  skill  has  found  its  limit?  The  art  of  the  sur- 
geon can  do  more,  and  Maurice  Tiernay  must  consent  to 
lose  his  leg !  Such  was  the  cruel  news  I  was  compelled  to 
listen  to  as  I  awoke  one  morning  dreaming,  and  for  the  first 
time  since  my  accident,  of  my  life  in  Kuff stein.  The  injuries 
I  had  received  before  being  rescued  from  the  Danube  had 
completed  the  mischief  already  begun,  and  all  chance  of 
saving  my  limb  had  now  fled.  I  am  not  sure  if  I  could  not 
have  heard  a  sentence  of  death  with  more  equanimity  than 
the  terrible  announcement  that  I  was  to  drag  out  existence 
maimed  and  crippled,  —  to  endure  the  helplessness  of  age 
with  the  warm  blood  and  daring  passions  of  j^outh,  and, 
worse  than  all,  to  forego  a  career  that  was  already  opening 
with  such  glorious  prospects  of  distinction. 

Nothing  could  be  more  kindly  considerate  than  the  mode 
of  communicating  this  sad  announcement;  nor  was  there 
omitted  anything  which  could  alleviate  the  bitterness  of  the 
tidings.  The  undying  gratitude  of  the  imperial  family, 
their  heartfelt  sorrow  for  my  suffering,  the  pains  they  had 
taken  to  communicate  the  whole  story  of  my  adventure  to 
the  Emperor  Napoleon  himself,  were  all  insisted  on ;  while 
the  personal  visits  of  the  archdukes,  and  even  the  Emperor 
himself,  at  my  sick  bed  were  told  to  me  with  every  flattery 
such  acts  of  condescension  could  convey.  Let  me  not  be 
thought  ungrateful  if  all  these  seemed  but  a  sorry  pa^mient 
for  the  terrible  sacrifice  I  was  to  suffer,  and  that  the  glitter- 
ing crosses  which  were  already  sent  to  me  in  recognition, 
and  which  now  sparkled  on  my  bed,  appeared  a  poor  price 
for  my  shattered  and  wasted  limb ;  and  I  vowed  to  myself 
that  to  be  once  more  strong  and  in  health  I  'd  change  for- 
tunes with  the  humblest  soldier  in  the  grand  army. 

After  all,  it  is  the  doubtful  alone  can  break  down  the  mind 
and  waste  the  courage ;  to  the  brave  man,  the  inevitable  is 
always  the  endurable.     Some  hours  of  solitude  and  reflection 


A  LOSS  AND  A   GAIN.  543 

brought  this  conviction  to  my  heart,  and  I  recalled  the  rash 
refusal  I  had  akeady  given  to  submit  to  the  amputation,  and 
sent  word  to  the  doctors  that  I  was  ready.  My  mind  once 
made  up,  a  thousand  ingenious  suggestions  poured  in  their 
consolations.  Instead  of  incui'ring  my  misfortune  as  I  had 
done,  my  mischance  might  have  originated  in  some  common- 
place or  inglorious  accident.  In  lieu  of  the  proud  recogni- 
tions I  had  earned  I  might  have  now  the  mere  sympathy  of 
some  fellow- sufferer  in  an  hospital ;  and  instead  of  the  Cross 
of  St.  Stephen  and  the  "valor  medal"  of  Austria,  my  re- 
ward might  have  been  the  few  sous  per  day  allotted  to  an 
invalided  soldier. 

As  it  was,  each  post  from  Vienna  brought  me  nothing  but 
flattering  recognitions ;  and  one  morning  a  large  sealed  let- 
ter from  Dm'oc  conveyed  the  Emperor's  own  approval  of 
my  conduct,  with  the  cross  of  commander  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor.  A  whole  life  of  arduous  services  might  have  failed 
to  win  such  prizes,  and  so  I  struck  the  balance  of  good  and 
evil  fortune,  and  found  I  was  the  gainer ! 

Among  the  presents  which  I  received  from  the  imperial 
family  was  a  miniature  of  the  young  archduchess  whose  life 
I  saved,  and  which  I  at  once  despatched  by  a  safe  messen- 
ger to  Marshal  Marmont,  engaging  him  to  have  a  copy  of  it 
made  and  the  original  returned  to  me.  I  concluded  that  cir- 
cumstances must  have  rendered  this  impossible,  for  I  never 
beheld  the  portrait  again,  although  I  heard  of  it  among  the 
articles  bequeathed  to  the  Due  de  Reichstadt  at  St.  Helena. 
Maria  Louisa  was  at  that  time  very  handsome.  The  upper 
lip  and  mouth  were,  it  is  true,  faulty,  and  the  Austrian 
heaviness  marred  the  expression  of  these  features ;  but  her 
brow  and  eyes  were  singularly  fine,  and  her  hair  of  a 
luxuriant  richness  rarely  to  be  seen. 

Count  Palakzi,  my  young  Hungarian  friend,  and  who  had 
scarcely  ever  quitted  my  bedside  during  my  illness,  used  to 
jest  with  me  on  my  admiration  of  the  young  archduchess, 
and  jokingly  compassionate  me  on  the  altered  age  we  lived 
in,  in  contrast  to  those  good  old  times  when  a  bold  feat  or  a 
heroic  action  was  sure  to  win  the  hand  of  a  fair  princess.  I 
half  suspect  that  he  believed  me  actually  in  love  with  her, 
and  deemed  that  this  was  the  best  way  to  treat  such  an 


544  IVIAURICE  TIERXAY. 

absurd  and  outrageous  ambition.  To  amuse  myself  with  his 
earnestness,  for  such  had  it  become,  on  the  subject,  I 
affected  not  to  be  indifferent  to  his  allusions,  and  assumed 
all  the  delicate  reserve  of  devoted  admiration.  Many  an 
hour  have  I  lightened  by  watching  the  fidgety  uneasiness  the 
young  count  felt  at  my  folly ;  for  now  instead  of  jesting,  as 
before,  he  tried  to  reason  me  out  of  this  insane  ambition,  and 
convince  me  that  such  pretensions  were  utter  madness. 

I  was  slowty  convalescing,  about  five  weeks  after  the 
amputation  of  my  leg,  when  Palakzi  entered  my  room  one 
morning  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand.  His  cheek  was 
flushed,   and  his  air  and  manner  greatly  excited. 

"  Would  you  believe  it,  Tiernay,"  said  he,  "  Stadion  writes 
me  word  from  Vienna  that  Napoleon  has  asked  for  the  hand 
of  the  young  archduchess  in  marriage,  and  that  the  Emperor 
has  consented." 

"And  am  I  not  considered  in  this  negotiation?"  asked  I, 
scarcely  suppressing  a  laugh. 

"  This  is  no  time  nor  theme  for  jest,"  said  he,  passionately ; 
'•  nor  is  it  easy  to  keep  one's  temper  at  such  a  moment.  A 
Hapsburgher  princess  married  to  a  low  Corsican  adventurer ! 
to  the  —  " 

"Come,  Palakzi,"  cried  I,  "these  are  not  words  for  me 
to  listen  to ;  and  having  heard  them,  I  may  be  tempted  to 
say  that  the  honor  comes  all  of  the  other  side,  and  that  he 
who  holds  all  Europe  at  his  feet  ennobles  the  dynasty  from 
which  he  selects  his  empress." 

"  I  deny  it,  —  fairly  and  fully  deny  it !  "  cried  the  passion- 
ate 3'outh.  "  And  every  noble  of  this  land  would  rather  see 
the  provinces  of  the  empire  torn  from  us  than  a  princess  of 
the  Imperial  House  degraded  to  such  an  alliance !  " 

"  Is  the  throne  of  France,  then,  so  low?  "  said  I,  calmly. 

"Not  when  the  rightful  sovereign  is  seated  on  it,"  said 
he.  "  But  are  we,  the  subjects  of  a  legitunate  monarchy,  to 
accept  as  equals  the  lucky  accidents  of  your  Revolution? 
By  what  claim  is  a  soldier  of  fortune  the  peer  of  king  or 
kaiser  ?  I  for  one  will  never  more  serve  a  cause  so  degraded  ; 
and  the  day  on  which  such  humiliation  is  our  lot  shall  be 
the  last  of  my  soldiering ; "  and  so  saying,  he  rushed 
passionately  from  the  room  and  disappeared. 


A  LOSS  AND  A  GAIN.  545 

I  mention  this  little  incident  here,  not  as  in  any  way  con- 
necting itself  with  my  own  fortunes,  but  as  illustrating  what 
I  afterwards  discovered  to  be  the  universal  feeling  enter- 
tained towards  this  alliance.  Low  as  Austria  then  was,  — 
beaten  in  every  battle,  her  vast  treasury  confiscated,  her 
capital  in  the  hands  of  an  enemy,  her  very  existence  as  an 
empire  threatened,  —  the  thought  of  this  insult,  for  such 
they  deemed  it,  to  the  Imperial  House  seemed  to  make  the 
burden  unendurable ;  and  many  who  would  have  sacrificed 
territory  and  power  for  a  peace  would  have  scorned  to  accept 
it  at  such  a  price  as  this. 

I  suppose  the  secret  history  of  the  transaction  will  never 
be  disclosed ;  but  living  as  I  did,  at  the  time,  under  the  same 
roof  with  the  royal  family,  I  inclined  to  think  that  their 
counsels  were  of  a  divided  natm^e ;  that  while  the  emperor 
and  the  younger  archdukes  gave  a  favorable  ear  to  the 
project,  the  empress  and  the  Archduke  Charles  as  steadily 
opposed  it.  The  gossip  of  the  day  spoke  of  dreadful  scenes 
between  the  members  of  the  Imperial  House,  and  some  have 
since  asserted  that  the  breaches  of  affection  that  were  then 
made  never  were  reconciled  in  after  life. 

With  these  events  of  state  or  private  history  I  have  no 
concern.  My  position  and  my  nationality  of  course  excluded 
me  from  confidential  intercourse  with  those  capable  of  giving 
correct  information ;  nor  can  I  record  anything  beyond  the 
mere  current  rumors  of  the  time.  This  much,  however,  I 
could  remark,  —  that  all  whom  conviction,  policy,  or  perhaps 
bribery  inclined  to  the  alliance  were  taken  into  court  favor, 
and  replaced  in  the  offices  of  the  household  those  whose 
opinions  were  adverse.  A  total  change,  in  fact,  took  place 
in  the  persons  of  the  royal  suite ;  and  the  Hungarian  nobles, 
many  of  whom  filled  the  "  hautes  charges,"  as  they  are 
called,  now  made  way  for  Bohemian  grandees,  who  were 
understood  to  entertain  more  favorable  sentiments  towards 
France.  Whether  in  utter  despair  of  the  cause  for  which 
they  had  suffered  so  long  and  so  much,  or  that  they  were 
willing  to  accept  this  alliance  with  the  oldest  dynasty  in 
Europe  as  a  compromise,  I  am  unable  to  say ;  but  so  was  it. 
Many  of  the  emigre  nobility  of  France,  the  unflinching,  im- 
placable  enemies   of   Bonaparte,    consented   to   bury   their 

35 


54:6  MAUEICE  TIERNAY. 

ancieut  grudges,  and  were  now  seen  accepting  place  and 
office  in  the  Austrian  household.  This  was  a  most  artful 
flattery  of  the  Austrians,  and  was  peculiarly  agreeable  to 
Napoleon,  who  longed  to  legalize  his  position  by  a  recon- 
ciliation with  the  old  followers  of  the  Boui'bons,  and  who 
dreaded  their  schemes  and  plots  far  more  than  he  feared  all 
the  turbulent  violence  of  the  Faubourg.  In  one  day  no 
fewer  than  three  French  nobles  were  appointed  to  places  of 
trust  in  the  household,  and  a  special  courier  was  sent  off  to 
Gratz  to  convey  the  appointment  of  maid  of  honor  to  a 
young  French  lady  who  lived  there  in  exile. 

Each  of  my  countrymen  on  arriving  came  to  visit  me. 
They  had  all  known  my  father  by  name,  if  not  personally, 
and  most  graciously  acknowledged  nie  as  one  of  themselves, 
—  a  flattery  they  sincerely  believed  above  all  price. 

I  had  heard  much  of  the  overweening  vanity  and  conceit 
of  the  Legitimists,  but  the  reality  far  exceeded  all  my 
notions  of  them.  There  was  no  pretence,  no  affectation 
whatever  about  them ;  they  implicitly  believed  that  in  ' '  ac- 
cepting the  Corsican,"  as  the  phrase  w^ent,  they  were  dis- 
playing a  condescension  and  self-negation  unparalleled  in 
history.  The  tone  of  superiority  thus  assumed  of  course 
made  them  seem  supremely  ridiculous  to  my  e3^es,  —  I,  who 
had  sacrificed  heavily  enough  for  the  empire,  and  yet  felt 
myself  amply  rewarded.  But  apart  from  these  exaggerated 
ideas  of  themselves,  they  were  most  amiable,  gentle-man- 
nered, and  agreeable. 

The  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  what  was  called  the  "  ser- 
vice "  associated  all  together,  dining  at  the  same  table,  and 
spending  each  evening  in  a  handsome  suite  appropriated  to 
themselves.  Hither  some  one  or  other  of  the  imperial  family 
occasionally  came  to  play  his  whist,  or  chat  away  an  hour  in 
pleasant  gossip,  —  these  distinguished  visitors  never  disturb- 
ing in  the  slightest  degree  the  easy  tone  of  the  society,  nor 
exacting  any  extraordinary  marks  of  notice  or  attention. 

The  most  frequent  guest  was  the  Archduke  Louis,  whose 
gayety  of  temperament  and  easy  humor  induced  him  to  pass 
nearly  every  evening  with  us.  He  was  fond  of  cards,  but 
liked  to  talk  away  over  his  game,  and  make  play  merely 
subsidiary  to  the  pleasure  of  conversation.     As  I  was  but 


A  LOSS  AND   A   GAIN.  547 

an  indifferent  "wbister,"  but  a  most  admirable  auditor,  I 
was  always  selected  to  make  one  of  his  party. 

It  was  on  one  of  the  evenings  when  we  were  so  engaged., 
and  the  archduke  had  been  displaying  a  more  than  ordinary 
flow  of  good  spii-its  and  merriment,  that  a  sudden  lull  in  the 
approving  laughter  and  a  general  subsidence  of  every  mur- 
mur attracted  my  attention.  I  turned  my  head  to  see  what 
had  occurred,  and  perceived  that  all  the  company  had  risen, 
and  were  standing  with  eyes  dii'ected  to  the  open  door. 

"  The  Archduchess,  your  Imperial  Highness!  "  whispered 
an  aide-de-camp  to  the  prince,  and  he  immediately  rose 
from  the  table,  an  example  speedily  followed  by  the  others. 
I  grasped  my  chaii'  with  one  hand,  and  with  my  sword  in 
the  other  tried  to  stand  up,  an  effort  which  hitherto  I  had 
never  accomplished  without  aid.  It  was  all  in  vain,  —  my 
debility  utterly  denied  the  attempt.  I  tried  again,  but  over- 
come by  pain  and  weakness  I  was  compelled  to  abandon  the 
effort  and  sink  down  on  my  seat,  faint  and  trembling.  By 
this  time  the  company  had  formed  into  a  circle,  leaving  the 
Archduke  Louis  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  —  I,  to  my 
increasing  shame  and  confusion,  being  seated  exactly  be- 
hind where  the  prince  stood. 

There  was  a  hope  for  me  still,  —  the  archduchess  might 
pass  on  through  the  rooms  without  my  being  noticed ;  and 
this  seemed  likely  enough,  since  she  was  merely  proceeding 
to  the  apartments  of  the  empress,  and  not  to  delay  with  us. 
This  expectation  was  soon  destined  to  be  extinguished ;  for, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  one  of  her  ladies,  the  young  princess 
came  straight  over  to  where  Prince  Louis  stood.  She  said 
something  in  a  low  voice,  and  he  turned  immediately  to  offer 
her  a  chair ;  and  there  was  I  seated,  very  pale,  and  very 
much  shocked  at  my  apparent  rudeness.  Although  I  had 
been  presented  before  to  the  young  archduchess,  she  had 
not  seen  me  in  the  uniform  of  the  Corps  de  Guides  (in  which 
I  now  served  as  colonel),  and  never  recognized  me.  She 
therefore  stared  steadily  at  me,  and  turned  towards  her 
brother  as  if  for  explanation. 

"Don't  you  know  him?"  said  the  archduke,  laughing; 
"it's  Colonel  de  Tiernay ;  and  if  he  cannot  stand  up,  you 
certainly  should  be  the  last  to   find  fault  with  him.     Pray 


548  MAURICE  TIERNAY. 

sit  quiet,  Tiernay,"  added  he,  pressing  me  down  on  my  seat; 
"  and  if  you  won't  look  so  terrified,  my  sister  will  remember 
you." 

"We  must  both  be  more  altered  than  I  ever  expect  if  I 
cease  to  remember  Monsieur  de  Tiernay,"  said  the  arch- 
duchess, with  a  most  courteous  smile.  Then  leaning  on  the 
back  of  a  chair,  she  bent  forward  and  inquired  after  my 
health. 

There  was  something  so  strange  in  the  situation,  —  a 
young,  handsome  girl  condescending  to  a  tone  of  freedom 
and  intimacy  with  one  she  had  seen  but  a  couple  of  times, 
and  from  whom  the  difference  of  condition  separated  her  by 
a  gulf  wide  as  the  great  ocean,  —  that  I  felt  a  nervous  tremor 
I  could  not  account  for.  Perhaps,  with  the  tact  that  Roy- 
alty possesses  as  its  own  prerogative,  or  perhaps  with  mere 
womanly  intuition,  she  saw  how  the  interview  agitated  me, 
and,  to  change  the  topic,  she  suddenly  said,  — 

"I  must  present  3'ou  to  one  of  my  ladies.  Colonel  de 
Tiernay,  a  countrywoman  of  your  own.  She  already  has 
heard  from  me  the  story  of  your  noble  devotion,  and  now 
only  has  to  learn  your  name.  Remember  you  are  to  sit 
still." 

As  she  said  this,  she  turned,  and  drawing  her  arm  within 
that  of  a  young  lady  behind  her  led  her  forward. 

"It  is  to  this  gentleman  I  owe  my  life.  Mademoiselle 
d'Estelles." 

I  heard  no  more,  nor  did  she  either;  for,  faltering,  she 
uttered  a  low,  faint  sigh,  and  fell  into  the  arms  of  those 
behind  her. 

"What's  this  Tiernay?  How  is  all  this?"  whispered 
Prince  Louis ;   "  are  you  acquainted  with  Mademoiselle?  " 

But  I  forgot  everything  —  the  presence  in  which  I  stood, 
the  agony  of  a  wounded  leg  and  all,  —  and  with  a  violent 
effort  sptung  from  my  seat.  Before  I  could  approach  her, 
however,  she  had  risen  from  the  chair,  and,  in  a  voice  broken 
and  interrupted,  said,  — 

"You  are  so  changed.  Monsieur  de  Tiernay  —  so  much 
changed  —  that  the  shock  overpowered  me.  We  became 
acquainted  in  the  Tyrol,  Madame,"  said  she  to  the  princess, 
'*  where  Monsieur  was  a  prisoner." 


A  LOSS  AND  A   GAIN.  549 

What  observation  the  princess  made  in  reply  I  could  not 
hear,  but  I  saw  that  Laura  blushed  deeply.  To  hide  her 
awkwardness  perhaps  it  was  that  she  hurriedly  entered  into 
some  account  of  our  former  intercourse,  and  I  could  observe 
that  some  allusion  to  the  Prince  de  Conde  dropped  from 
her. 

"How  strange,  how  wonderful,  is  all  that  you  tell  me!  " 
said  the  princess,  who  bent  forward  and  whispered  some 
words  to  Prince  Louis ;  and  then  taking  Laura's  arm  she 
moved  on,  saying  in  a  low  voice,  "  Au  revoir,  Monsieur,"  as 
she  passed. 

"You  are  to  come  and  drink  tea  in  the  archduchess's 
apartments,  Tiernay,"  said  Prince  Louis;  "you'll  meet 
your  old  friend  Mademoiselle  d'Estelles,  and  of  course  you 
have  a  hundred  recollections  to  exchange  with  each  other." 

The  prince  insisted  on  my  accepting  his  arm,  and,  as  he 
assisted  me  along,  informed  me  that  old  Madame  d'Aigreville 
had  been  dead  about  a  year,  leaving  her  niece  an  immense 
fortune,  —  at  least  a  claim  to  one,  —  only  wanting  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  Emperor  Napoleon  to  become  valid ;  for  it  was 
one  of  the  estreated  but  not  confiscated  estates  of  La  Vendee. 
Every  word  that  dropped  from  the  prince  extinguished  some 
hope  within  me.  More  beautiful  than  ever,  her  rank  recog- 
nized, and  in  possession  of  a  vast  fortune,  what  chance  had 
I,  a  poor  soldier  of  fortune,  of  success? 

"Don't  sigh,  Tiernay,"  said  the  prince,  laughing ;  "you 've 
lost  a  leg  for  us,  and  we  must  lend  you  a  hand  in  return ;  " 
and  with  this  we  entered  the  salon  of  the  archduchess. 


CHAPTER   LIV. 

MAURICE    TIERNAY's    "LAST   WORD    AND    CONFESSION." 

I  HAVE  been  very  frank  with  my  readers  in  these  memoirs  of 
my  life.  If  I  have  dwelt  somewhat  vain-gloriously  on  pass- 
ing moments  of  success,  it  must  be  owned  that  I  have  not 
spared  my  vanity  and  self-conceit  when  either  betrayed  me 
into  any  excess  of  folly.  I  have  neither  blinked  my  humble 
beginnings,  nor  have  I  sought  to  attribute  to  my  own  merits 
those  happy  accidents  which  made  me  what  I  am.  I  claim 
nothing  but  the  humble  character,  —  a  Soldier  of  Fortune. 
It  was  my  intention  to  have  told  the  reader  somewhat  more 
than  these  twenty  odd  years  of  my  life  embrace.  Probably, 
too,  my  subsequent  career,  if  less  marked  by  adventure,  was 
more  pregnant  with  true  views  of  the  world  and  sounder 
lessons  of  conduct.  But  I  have  discovered  to  my  surprise 
that  these  revelations  have  extended  over  a  wider  surface 
than  I  ever  destined  them  to  occupy,  and  already  I  tremble 
for  the  loss  of  that  gracious  attention  that  has  been  vouch- 
safed me  hitherto.  I  will  not  trust  myself  to  say  how  much 
regret  this  abstinence  has  cost  me ;  enough  if  I  avow  that 
in  jotting  down  the  past  I  have  lived  my  youth  over  again, 
and  in  tracing  old  memories,  old  scenes,  and  old  impressions, 
the  smouldering  fire  of  my  heart  has  shot  up  a  transient 
flame  so  bright  as  to  throw  a  glow  even  over  the  chill  of  my 
old  age. 

It  is,  after  all,  no  small  privilege  to  have  lived  and  borne 
one's  part  in  stirring  times ;  to  have  breasted  the  ocean  of 
life  when  the  winds  were  up  and  the  waves  ran  high ;  to 
have  mingled,  however  humbh^,  in  eventful  scenes,  and  had 
one's  share  in  the  mighty  deeds  that  were  to  become  history 
afterwards.  It  is  assuredly  in  such  trials  that  humanity 
comes  out  best,  and  that  the  character  of  man  displays  all 
its  worthiest  and  noblest  attributes.  Amid  such  scenes  I 
began  my  life,  and  in  the  midst  of  similar  ones,  if  my  pro- 
phetic foresight  deceive  me  not,  I  am  like  to  end  it. 


"LAST   WORD   AND   CONFESSION."  551 

Having  said  this  much  of  and  for  m^'self,  I  am  sure  the 
reader  will  pardon  me  if  I  am  not  equally  communicative 
with  respect  to  another,  and  if  I  pass  over  the  remainder  of 
that  interval  which  I  spent  at  Komorn.  Even  were  love- 
making —  w^hich  assuredly  it  is  not  —  as  interesting  to  the 
spectator  as  to  those  engaged,  I  should  scruple  to  recount 
events  which  delicacy  should  throw  a  veil  over ;  nor  am  I 
induced,  even  by  the  example  of  the  wittiest  periodical 
writer  of  the  age,  to  make  a  feuiUefon  of  my  own  marriage. 
Enough  that  I  say,  despite  ni}^  shattered  form,  my  want  of 
fortune,  my  unattested  pretension  to  rank  or  station.  Made- 
moiselle d'Estelles  accepted  me,  and  the  Emperor  most 
gTaciously  confirmed  her  claims  to  wealth,  —  thus  making 
me  one  of  the  richest  and  the  very  happiest  among  the 
Soldiers  of  Fortune. 

The  Pere  Delannois,  now  superior  of  a  convent  at  Pisa, 
came  to  Komorn  to  perform  the  ceremony ;  and  if  he  could 
not  altogether  pardon  those  who  had  uprooted  the  ancient 
monarchy  of  France,  yet  he  did  not  conceal  his  gratitude  to 
him  who  had  restored  the  church  and  rebuilt  the  altar. 

There  may  be  some  who  may  deem  this  closing  abrupt, 
and  who  would  wish  for  even  a  word  about  the  bride,  her 
bouquet,  and  her  blushes.  I  cannot  afford  to  gratify  so 
laudable  a  curiosity ;  at  the  same  time  a  lurking  Vanity  in- 
duces me  to  say  that  any  one  wishing  to  know  more  about 
the  personnel  of  my  wife  or  myself  has  but  to  look  at  David's 
picture,  or  the  engraving  made  from  it,  of  the  Emperor's 
marriage.  There  they  will  find,  in  the  left  hand  corner, 
partly  concealed  behind  the  Grand  Duke  de  Berg,  an  officer 
of  the  Guides,  supporting  on  his  arm  a  young  and  very 
beautiful  girl,  herself  a  bride.  If  the  young  lady's  looks 
are  turned  with  more  interest  on  her  companion  than  upon 
the  gorgeous  spectacle,  remember  that  she  is  but  a  few  weeks 
married.  If  the  soldier  carry  himself  with  less  of  martial 
vigor  or  grace,  pray  bear  in  mind  that  cork  legs  had  not 
attained  the  perfection  to  which  later  skill  has  brought  them. 

I  have  the  scene  stronger  before  me  than  painting  can 
depict,  and  my  eyes  fill  as  I  now  behold  it  in  my  memory. 

THE    END. 


UNIVERSITY 

OF 

CALIFOR]^ 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


BERKELEY  jjS^ 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
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